


The Prince's Curse

by ThisBirdWithoutACage



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Sleeping Beauty, Arranged Marriage, BAMF Newt Scamander, BAMF Percival, But here it is, Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, Curses, Fairy!Credence, Fairy!Queenie, Fairy!Seraphina, Fairy!Tina, Gellert Grindelwald Being an Asshole, Gellert Grindelwald being a creep, Knight Percival Graves, M/M, Magic, Prince Newt, Prince Theseus, Rating May Change, Sassy Percival, Strangers to Lovers, The AU no one asked for, War with Grindelwald
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9783155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisBirdWithoutACage/pseuds/ThisBirdWithoutACage
Summary: (Alternatively titled Grindelwald is the reason we can't have nice things)Cursed as a young infant by an evil wizard, Newt's life is anything but ordinary. Raised by four caretakers that are actually fairies acting as his guardians, he thinks there's nothing unnatural or completely fascinating about his life at all.Of course, he doesn't know about the curse. Or why he's so good with taming magical beasts. Or that he's a prince, for that matter. And he certainly doesn't know there's a wizard who'll stop at nothing to see him fall under said curse and extract his revenge.He also doesn't know the handsome stranger he meets in the woods one day is actually his fiance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this tumblr post: http://the-boy-with-a-trident.tumblr.com/post/157030673853/gramander-%EF%BD%86%EF%BD%81%EF%BD%89%EF%BD%92%EF%BD%99%EF%BD%94%EF%BD%81%EF%BD%8C%EF%BD%85%EF%BD%93-1
> 
> This is my first Gramander fic, so I'm super excited! I will admit I really didn't know what to think of it at first, but here I am! There are so many wonderful fics and I decided, why not? It's been two months since I've seen the movie, but I do own the original play script, but hey, whatever. So, comment if you would like to and let me know if you would like me to continue!
> 
> I know the first chapter isn't especially long, but I do have a habit of making some chapters longer than others. Depending on what is going on, so keep that in mind.

Theseus didn’t know what to think of his baby brother at first. The only thing he really knows about him is that his name is Newt. 

He’s only been around for a few days, but he’s been mostly kept away from his mother’s chambers, so he hasn’t officially seen the baby yet. He can hear the baby crying every hour or so, needing something from their mother or the nurses. His father has been in and out of his mother’s chambers and in his opinion, it’s unfair that his father gets to go in, but he doesn’t.

“Maybe he’s sick,” his best friend, Percival, says to him as they pretend sword fight. They’re in the grand hall, wooden swords clashing against each other as they move around. Percival comes from a long line of knights and in the coming year, he’ll begin the first step of knighthood; becoming a page. His eyes are a rich dark brown in the natural sunlight; the warm summer breeze drifting in from the large open windows. His lips tilt upwards in a smirk, thrusting his wooden sword towards him which he easily blocks. “Or maybe they’ve decided they only need one son.”

“Liar!” the wood makes a scraping sound, echoing in his ears as they break apart and circle each other as they’ve seen knights do in practice. More specifically, their fathers and occasionally Percival’s mother. He rolled his eyes at his friend. “They won’t get rid of me; I’m heir to the throne. Besides, I heard my father tell yours that they’re thinking of marrying you off to him.”

That wiped the smirk off Percival’s face and the boy’s eyebrows furrowed, as if trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not. “You’re gross,” the darker haired boy wrinkles his nose at the idea, stepping forward with the sword pointed. “I’m going to be a knight, not a husband!”

“Too late; it’s been decided!”

“Theseus!”

He laughed, ignoring the slightly angry expression on his friend’s face. “Percy and Newt sitting in a tree, K-i-s-s-i-n-g-”

“Shut up!”

“Make me!”

He threw down his sword the second Percival threw down his, the shorter boy running after him with a look that promised his swift demise. He snickered, ducking behind his father’s throne as the boy rushed after him, past several servants and knights who made disgruntled noises of irritation. Percival relentlessly continued to chase him, brown eyes blazing with excitement that was now proceeding to replace the anger.

“Oomph!”

He rubs his nose, eyes smarting with unshed tears. His parents would have scolded him for being careless, that is, if they were here. And if his nose had started to bleed, he briefly pondered if they would have been more upset if the tapestry had been ruined with his blood.

He stares up at it with solemn interest and awe. The Great war had been over for nearly three years now. He was only three years old when it ended, Percival as well, so neither of them remembered too much of it. He felt the other boy’s presence, excitement and childish laughter now gone as the two of them stared up at the massive cloth work. It hadn’t been up for very long; their mothers and others taking extra care and precision with it. He shivered slightly, knowing full well that when his mother was angry, she rivaled that of hippogryph.

_“Seven years before you were born, Theseus, there was a dark wizard who wanted to tear up the very foundation of our world. He wanted the magical kind to have complete domination over the human race; to make us kneel at his feet and declare him our king. A bloody war broke out, with both sides suffering many losses. For ten years, the war raged on. In the seventh year, you were born, and then later on, your little friend Percival. Your father, with the help of another great wizard and the leader of the fairies, defeated the dark wizard. Now we live in a time of peace, with the bloodshed and terror behind us. But don’t be a fool, Theseus. When life goes well, it’s a sudden gift. It cannot last forever.”_

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“Hm?”

Percival scowls at him. “That dark wizard, Grindelwald. Do you think he’ll come back?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs nonchalantly, looking exactly where the figure of the dark wizard was sewn into fabric. “He doesn’t look that intimidating. I think he looks like a bleached pineapple.”

“I suppose so.”

He looks back towards the tapestry, a strange feeling floating around inside himself. It’s odd, he thinks, how he doesn’t remember the war. It only ended just three years ago and is a subject of great hush among the servants and nobles inside the castle. He asked his nanny, a house elf by the name of Hattie, about it before and she had been so inconsolable that his mother gave her the rest of the day off and given him quite the scolding.

Then he thinks of the wizard who helped his father defeat the evil wizard. A man he thinks he can recall, yet isn’t quite sure. A man with auburn hair tied back behind his head with kind yet mischievous blue eyes. After the war, he disappeared without a trace. He knew his father was greatly perturbed by this, but had no idea where the wizard could have gone or even if he was alive anymore. Which in his opinion, is ridiculous because how could a wizard powerful enough to defeat an even eviler wizard just die without anyone knowing?

“What are you two boys looking at? Get away from it before you tear it!”

They both turn at the sound of Lady Tomasia Graves, who’s striding over to them with her lips pressed in a stern line and dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. Her dark brown hair is piled behind her head and when she finally reaches them, she takes both their hands. Percival frowns, attempting to release his hand from hers but her grip is strong; calloused from years of wielding a sword. “We weren’t touching it, Mother,” Percival argues, though his voice is soft and steady. “I promise we would never do anything to ruin it.”

“You say that, but I know very well it was the two of you who broke that vase with an arrow the other day,” they glance at each other and when he looks at her, he swears he can see a hint of amusement in her dark brown orbs. “Now come along, the Queen has requested your presence.”

“Mother wants to see me?”

“Well of course she wants to see you, why else would she be asking for you?” her lips twist up into an amused smile. “You want to see your new brother, don’t you?”

His heart begins to beat wildly in his chest and if Percival’s mother knew how excited he was, she didn’t show it or say anything. He’s barely able to keep his excitement contained, though he wants to break free of the noble lady’s hold and run to his mother’s chambers. It’s been almost a week since he’s seen his mother, still not completely understanding why he had to be away. As they walk down the hallway, he doesn’t even stop to admire the tapestries and portraits of the Scamander family. The only person he cares about right now is his mother. Oh, and his brother, too.

When they reach her doors, Lady Graves releases both their hands, pushing the double doors open. The curtains have been pushed aside to let natural sunlight in, the soft blue and dark wood walls seemingly brighter now. His mother lay in her bed, propped up against lush cream colored pillows as his father sat next to her at the other hand, looking fondly at each other. Her soft blue gaze turns to him and he rushes towards her, jumping up on the bed as she wraps her arms around him.

“My little Prince,” she murmurs in his hair, the same color as hers, and kisses his cheeks. “How have you been? I’ve missed you so.”

“Mother,” he smiles at her, not leaving her gaze even as his father ruffles his hair. His smile falters for a moment, causing her head to tilt curiously as she awaits for him to speak; to answer the question she knows he’s going to ask. “Mother, why couldn’t I see you? Are you hurt?”

“Oh no, sweetheart, I’m fine. Just a bit under the weather, that’s all,” her smile is warm like the sunshine pouring in from the windows, but he can see it now. She looks tired, with faint bags forming under her eyelids. Yet her smile is full of life; of strength that cannot be distinguished so easily. He had seen his mother tame even the most strong willed of hippogryphs; had seen her boldly address those in court who wanted to challenge her authority. She could not easily be defeated by some sickness.

Her long curly auburn hair is cascaded over her shoulders, which only moves when her arm raises up in a gesture towards his father. “Help me up, would you darling?” she asks, and he jumps off the bed to allow his mother to move. When she stands, she seems a little stiff in her movements, but she takes his hand to guide him over to where a dark wood engraved cradle stood, with a royal blue canopy accented in gold draped around. He peered over it, gazing over to where his baby brother lay swaddled in a blanket. He’s not asleep, yet his eyes blink blearily up at them. Blue, the same color as their mother’s eyes. He has a full head of hair, wispy auburn curls identical to his own.

He reaches inside, his little brother’s fingers brushing against his own. Tiny hands grasp gently at his forefinger and he can’t help but smile. His mother, no, their mother, places her own hand on his shoulder. “What do you think, Theseus? Do you like him?”

“Yeah,” and he means it, too. He can’t help but feel instant love and kinship towards this small creature. “What’s his name?”

“Newton,” she answers. “Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, Prince of Griffindale, but we’ll call him Newt for short,” she turns her head over, gaze resting on Percival. “Come here, won’t you? Don’t you want to look at the baby?”

For once, Percival actually looks unsure of himself, glancing up at his mother for some sort of confirmation. She nods and gives him a light push forward, the boy heading slowly over to where they stood. He peers over the cradle, a brief flicker of curiosity dancing in his eyes. Baby Newt looks up at him and he could have sworn the baby smiled up at the other boy.

“Just think, Percival,” he didn’t know when Lady Graves had come over, only that she was speaking directly in her son’s ear. “One day, this little prince will be your husband.”

He almost laughed at the completely devastated and horrified look on Percival’s face.

~

They decided to celebrate his brother’s arrival a month after his birth.

They’d had celebrations before (Yuletide, Easter, even Mayday), but he’d never seen the castle filled with this many people. Lords and ladies from all over the kingdom; even a few royal families from kingdoms other than their own. Merchants, peasants, and even the townsfolk were invited to the event. Their family crest was hung all on the walls, all of them dressed in their finest clothing and his parents even wearing their crowns, something they only did on formal occasions.

“Just think, Theseus, the last time this castle was filled like this was when you were a baby,” his mother told him as they descended down the stairs, her white and gold gown flowing behind her elegantly. “This will be a fun day for all of us, but be sure to be on your best behavior in front of our important guests.”

“Yes, Mother,” he nods his head, but looks up at her anyway in confusion. “But why?”

“Because you’re heir to the throne. You have to set an example for your little brother, too.”

“But he’s a baby!”

“Well then, it seems you’ll have your work cut out for you.”

She pinches his cheek teasingly before waltzing off to where his father awaited her, holding his hand out for hers to take it. He stands near their thrones; near his little brother’s cradle where the infant slept peacefully. How the babe could sleep with all the noise he couldn’t possible understand. The laughter and conversation accompanied by the minstrels sweet tunes was enough to keep anyone awake. The smell of the food drifting over from the kitchens was enough to make his stomach growl and his mouth begin to salivate.

He could see Percival sitting next to his father and some other man, looking absolutely bored with whatever they were talking about. He waved over to the other boy, whose face only brightened once he realized he could escape the dull conversation. Lord Graves only nodded, brushing him off without discontinuing his conversation and with a relieved grin, Percival rushed over.

“What were they talking about?” he asks, nudging his friend in the arm with his elbow. “Your future marriage to my brother?”

“Shut up!” Percival scowls at him, pink dusting his cheeks as he glances over to the sleeping baby. He’s still fast asleep, though his small fingers twitch against the soft material of his blanket. The look from Percival doesn’t disappear. “They can’t be serious. This has to be a joke.”

He gives a little smirk. “Nope, I’m afraid it’s true.”

“Why don’t they arrange a marriage for you? Percival counters and he has to admit, he has often wondered why his parents arranged for his little brother and best friend to be married, but not him. He merely shrugs his shoulders.  

“I don’t know,” he looks back to his little brother, smiling at young child. “Maybe I’m a special case.”

“Or they want to pick just the right princess for you,” he shoots the other boy a nasty look, which only causes a smirk to grow on the other boy’s face. “Imagine if they chose someone from the Lestrange family to be your bride.”

The very thought of marrying someone from the Lestrange family is enough to make him want to throw up. “Nasty,” he spits out, attempting to remove the image from his head. “Everyone knows they’re Grindelwald sympathizers. Or they were followers, I don’t really know, but Mother and Father would never marry me off to that family.”

Despite bringing up the comment, Percival nods in agreement. “My Father and Mother don’t like them either. I believe I heard my Father say he wants to stab Rodolphus Lestrange up his arse.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“Doesn’t surprise me, though,” Percival wrinkles his nose ever so slightly, staring across the room from where the most hated family in the kingdom sat. “They think they’re too good for everyone in the room. Bunch of snobs, they are.”

He opened his mouth to reply to that, but was soon interrupted by Lady Graves appearing in front of them. “What are you two doing, standing here like gossiping old women,” she shakes her head at them and Percival scowls at being compared to an old woman. She motions her head over to one side of the room. “Go play with the other children.”

“But Mother-”

“No buts, just go,” she places her hands on her hips, dark eyes matching Percival’s in a challenge. “Do what your Mother says. Now go!”

He’s never completely understood why Percival hates playing with other kids, but the boy follows him without a word to where the other royal and non royal children were playing. Sometimes other children were wary around them, most likely considering he was the prince but Percival...Percival had this type of air about him. A dominating presence that commanded everyone’s attention and obedience. He could be bossy at times, but when they were alone, playing together, it wasn’t like that. He loosened up; was a lot more fun to be around.

They haven’t been playing for very long when the trumpets sounded throughout the whole room. Everyone went silent as an announcement echoed across the stone walls. “They’re most honored and exalted excellency, the four most trusted fairies in the entire kingdom. Madam Seraphina, Mistress Porpentina, Mistress Queenie, and young Mister Credence!”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the fairies, or if he’d ever seen them at all, and he had to crane his neck over some tall kid’s shoulder to look at them. A beautiful fairy with dark skin and gold hair held together up by a turban. Another fairy with chocolate colored waves and kind looking brown eyes; a similar fairy only with golden wavy hair and laughing sparkling blue orbs stood next to her. Then there was a fairy that looked about the age of a teenage boy, who looked shyly up at the King and Queen.

“That fairy was in Grindelwald’s army,” Percival hissed in his ear. “He changed sides and if he hadn’t, my father says we might not have won the war.”

He thinks the fairy, Credence, has heard them for the tip of his ears turn pink.

The dark skinned fairy moves forward, bowing respectfully towards his parents. “Your excellencies,” her voice is strong, compelling everyone to pay attention to what she has to say. “Each of us thank you for inviting us to this special occasion. We will each grant the newborn prince a single gift. No more, no less.”

The other three nod their heads and he watches as his mother smiles. “We thank you for your generosity. We hope you will stay for the rest of the celebration, if you’re not too busy.”

The fairy, Seraphina, he believes, simply smiles softly. “We would love to,” she flies over to where his brother is still fast asleep. Her wand, which to him looks like a simple little stick, is held delicately in her hand and she moves it in an expertise fashion. “Little Prince, my gift for you shall be the gift of moral righteousness. May you always be fair and just to whomever you meet.”

Golden sparkles fell from her wand and down into the cradle. As she moves away and the sparkles fade, the fairy with the dark waves of hair fluttered over gracefully, calmly gazing down at him. “For you, little prince,” her voice is soft, like the summer breeze that flows through the castle. “I bless you with the gift of graciousness, so you will be kind and pleasant to everyone you meet.”

Unlike the other fairy, silver sparkles drip from the tip of her wand. He knows his little brother is awake now, for a tiny hand reaches up from his bed. She smiles down at him, yet moves away to allow the blonde fairy to come over. There’s something attracting about this fairy. He can’t turn his eyes away from her and when she meets his gaze, she winks.

His cheeks instantly match the color of her gown.

“Aren’t you sweet?” there’s laughter in her voice, but not any ounce of condensation. It’s pure, untainted kindness. Her wand is held loosely in her hand and with graceful gestures with her wrist, pink sparkles flutter around. “My gift, little prince, will be the gift song. A gift to share and bring happiness to others.”

She smiles to the infant one last time before turning to the youngest fairy, beckoning him over. “Come on, dear,” she’s gentle towards him, speaking with encouragement. “Don’t be shy; don’t you want to give a gift to the young prince?”

The dark haired fairy, Tina, gives him a gentle push forward. “Go on,” even though she’s whispering, he can still hear her. “It’s alright, you’ll do fine.”

The young fairy looks towards Seraphina, who just nods at him to move forward. He looks shyly at his parents, who are leaning forward with anticipation. His mother looks at him gently. “Please, I’m sure you have something wonderful to give. Don’t be too shy, dear.”

He moves a little awkwardly to where his brother and Queenie are. As he looks down at his little brother, he swears he can see a tiny smile tug at the corners of his lips; as though he is remembering something fondly. He doesn’t know this fairy’s history, but even he can tell he must have experienced the joy of having a younger sibling or something akin to that feeling.

“Young Prince,” he starts so quietly that he has to turn his head in order to hear him. “My gift for you shall be-”

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A party and I wasn’t invited?”

In a flash of black smoke, a man had appeared in the middle of the throne room. Only a few feet away from where his parents’ thrones sat. Several people gasped as the man removed the hood from his head, revealing stark white hair and amused storm colored eyes that appeared almost translucent against his pale skin. His smile is charming, but no one is fooled by it. Several knights draw their swords, including Percival’s parents but the man throws them into the wall with a dismissive wave of his hand. The scariest thing being was that they seemed to be stuck there.

He tries to entertain the thought of him looking like a bleached pineapple, but it doesn’t stop the sickening fear that’s building at the bottom of his stomach.

“Grindelwald,” his father spits out, with absolute loathing in his eyes. “I had presumed you to be dead!”

“Yes, well, you _presumed,_ ” the dark wizard mocks and then clicks his tongue. His eyes scan the room, intently searching for someone before he sighs and stops with thinly concealed disappointment. “I suppose he’s not here, now is he.”

No one answers him and when those cold eyes land on him, he feels a thousand chills of fear run down his spine. “So this is your son? Future king? I wonder which spell could make him scream the loudest…”

“You stay away from him!” his mother is standing up now, fierce fury in her eyes as her gaze boldly meets the dark wizards. “You stay away from my children!”

“Children?” his eyes move towards the cradle, where a large grin spreads across his face. “Oh yes, I almost forgot, you had another child.”

Before he can even blink, the dark wizard is standing in front of his brother, the fairies now bound by some invisible force that even they are struggling to break free from. With that same dangerous grin on his face, he reaches in and picks his brother up. His mother makes a strangling noise, her face now drastically pale as the dark wizard is cradling Newt in his arms.

“What a beautiful child,” he feels sick to his stomach as he hears Newt whimper, the promise of a crying session coming on. Grindelwald’s threatening smile only seems to grow, eyes twinkling dangerously as though an idea has just formed in his head. “I believe, I too, would also like to give him a gift.”

“No!”

He sets Newt back down in the cradle, a malevolent look now replacing the dark smile. “Listen well, all of you,” dark magic is gathering in his hands, radiating evil and ill intent. “The young prince will grow in grace and fairness, _beloved_ by everyone. But, before the sun sets on his twenty-first birthday, he shall prick his finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel, and die!”

He hears his brother begin to cry and hot anger courses through his veins. Grindelwald only laughs and in a flurry of dark smoke, disappears from his sight. The spells trapping everyone who had been in his way are broken, the knights falling to the floor and the fairies soothing their stiffened joints. He runs over to where his brother is, his mother beating him there and gathering him into his arms, tears streaming down her face.

He doesn’t know what to do, but he holds onto her arm for support.

“This is our fault,” she weeps, looking to his father. “We...we should have made sure he was gone! Now our son is going to die!”

“If...If I may?”

He had almost misheard the voice that interrupted his mother’s sobs. They both look to see Credence stepping towards them slowly, looking a bit apprehensive as Newt’s cries began to dwindle. “I think, I may be able to help.”

“You can break the curse?” his mother sounded hopeful, the tears making her eyes seem glassy. “You can prevent this?”

“Not entirely,” the young fairy looks towards his mentors, who only nod in support. He turns back to looking at Newt, wand raised ever so slightly, twisting as he spoke. “I am not powerful enough to reverse the curse, but I can modify it. Prince Newt will not die, but instead fall into a deep sleep that only true love's kiss can break.”

A hush descends over the throne room and he can remember that being the first time he's ever felt an ominous presence race across his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seraphina, Tina, Queenie and Credence discuss what should be done for Newt. Grindelwald is not happy. Not happy at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for all the support! I cannot even begin to express my gratitude, but does another chapter count? I can't promise frequent updates (busy college girl), but I'll see what I can do. This story isn't going to be terribly long; 16-20 chapters at most, but I am kind of picky on how I want them to turn out. Sometimes they write themselves, sometimes they don't. 
> 
> Ah, well, enjoy!

It’s never a good thing when Tina is angry, Seraphina muses calmly as she magically pours tea into four teacups.

The dark haired fairy is pacing around the little fairy house, transparent gossamer wings fluttering quickly behind her as she moves, cheeks slightly red and eyebrows furrowed with clear agitation. “That foul, despicable, horrid excuse for a wizard!” her eyes only darken as she speaks, silver specks spouting from the tip of her wand and onto all of them. “How did we not notice him? Are we really this incompetent? That poor child is doomed!”

“Now, now, Teen, please calm down and have some tea,” Queenie orders serenely, offering the porcelain blue and white cup to her. “All this pacing and worrying will give you wrinkles.”

Tina stops momentarily, staring at her twin with utmost exasperation. “How can think of wrinkles and tea in a time like this? Grindelwald’s been here this whole time and we were completely caught off guard!”

It’s not normal for Tina to behave this way, meaning she’s truly upset and enraged by what has happened. Seraphina notes this as she sips her tea calmly, keeping her own thoughts to herself at the moment. She’s better at keeping her anger in check; at keeping a level head at all times. As leader of the fairies, they can expect nothing less of her. Especially as a leader who has to set a good example and rule for her kind. However, she won’t deny the small sparks of rage that dance at the edge of her fingertips, begging to be let out. Only growing further when she remembers those evil pale arms holding the defenseless baby. 

She doesn’t blame Tina for her anger, though all the pacing and fuming wasn’t going to change the situation.

Credence, who’s normally quiet, speaks in a tentative voice. “They’ve suggested collecting and burning on the spinning wheels in the land.”

When she snorts, she doesn’t even bat an eye at the three expressions suddenly turned towards her. “Like burning spinning wheels will stop him,” she sets her teacup back on the saucer, sitting back in her chair. “It would be unwise to underestimate him and you know it. I don’t think I need to remind you what happened the last time we didn’t consider his threats.”

Credence doesn’t remember; he was still very young at the time but the twins do. Their normally rosey faces pale drastically at the thought; a bitter memory resonating inside their minds. She doesn’t take pleasure in rubbing salt into the wounds but she will if she deems it necessary. She notices Tina sit down next to Queenie, begrudgingly taking the teacup from her. She doesn’t need to remind them of what they lost during the war. 

“So what do you propose we do?” Queenie asks with unperturbed grace, adding milk into Tina’s cup. “If burning spinning wheels won’t stop him, then I don’t think anything will.”

She’s always liked Queenie; she admires how perceptive she is and her always graceful presence in the face of danger. She always knows what to say and how to handle situations. She wouldn’t even be surprised if the young golden fairy took over as Queen one day. “Any suggestions are open,” she offers to the others, watching as they eye each other worriedly. “But you are right, we cannot sit and do nothing. Not while Grindelwald knows where the young babe is.”

“We could turn him into something inanimate, like…” Queenie trails off for a moment before an idea pops into her head, illuminating her eyes with vivid brightness. “A flower! A bright sunflower! I think he would be very lovely, no?”

“And have Grindelwald kill him with a frost?” Tina counters, considerably much calmer than she had been a few moments ago. “The King and Queen would have our heads for sure.”

“You know,” Queenie sighs distantly, resting her chin on her hands. “I don’t think Grindelwald truly knows what love is. He’s all by himself up in that dark fortress of his; he must get lonely.”

“Don’t start sympathizing with him; he’s killed hundreds of our kind! And others!” Tina gives her a quick glare.

“I wasn’t sympathizing,” Queenie rolls her eyes, giving a dramatic sigh of thinly veiled irritation. “Merely making an observation. I pity him, really. Maybe if there was a shred of light in his life than he wouldn’t be so nasty towards others.”

It’s a kind thing to say, much kinder than a monster like Grindelwald deserves, but that’s what’s interesting about Queenie. Seraphina’s known her her entire life; knows she sees things a lot differently than other people due to her gift. A legilmen’s ability was rare, even among their kind and certainly not frequent in the human race. Grindelwald himself was a seer and fewer than five or so were born every century. 

“Won’t he know what we’re planning?” it’s not often that Credence speaks, only doing so when he believes it’ll be beneficial to others. Something she knows Queenie and Tina are trying to break out of him. “He’s a seer, so won’t he know what we’re up to?”

He offers a valid point, something she’s secretly proud of him doing. “Seeing into the future is extremely difficult, even for a seer. He won’t find what’s he’s looking for so easily. However, you are right. He knows we’ll do anything to stop him.”

He frowns, dark eyes far away as a pensive look crosses over his pale features. “When Mary Lou,” he flinches as he speaks her name and again, she doesn’t blame her. That woman’s memory breathes down the back of his neck like a dragon. He clears his throat, starting once more. “When Mary Lou stole me away from my birth mother and attempted to snuff out any trace of magic in me, she took away my fairy name.”

“Yes, we’re aware of that,” she motions for him to continue, although it’s not like she doesn’t already know what he’s getting at. “Continue.”

“Well, it’s not the greatest idea; I know, but,” he looks towards them timidly. “Fairy names are particular; not used among humans. I had no idea I even had magic until...well, you all know, but what if we did something similar?”

Tina frowns. “You want us to change his name?”

“No, well, yes,” Credence flushes all the way to the tips of his ears. “Grindelwald will be looking for a prince. More specifically, Prince Newt. If we change his identity, then it’ll throw him off. At least, maybe it will.”

She watches with concealed amusement as Queenie’s smile makes him more nervous. “I see what you’re saying,” she’s lively now, wings twitching rapidly. “The four of us could raise him to think he’s someone else. He wouldn’t even know he’s a prince till his twenty-first birthday! This will throw Grindelwald’s plan off!”

Tina, who’d been blowing on her tea at the moment, set it down with an even deeper frown. “While that’s an interesting plan and very well  _ could  _ work. And I do say  _ could,  _ mind you. The problem is convincing the King and Queen. There is no way they will just willingly give the child over to us.”

“Tina is right,” they all jump when she speaks again. “While it’s risky, it’s really the only thing I can possibly see working. The prince is not safe here; not while Grindelwald knows exactly where he is. We will take him from the castle and set him somewhere else secluded. Let’s say, oh, the forest.”

“The forest?” Tina’s concerned voice interrupts her. “But the forest is dangerous!”

“And being where Grindelwald knows where he is, isn’t?” she eyes the younger fairy evenly. “He won’t be without protection. We’ll disguise ourselves as peasants, simply raising this small babe we found.”

“But we’re fairies; there’s no way he’s not going to notice that.”

Her smile scares them all. “Who said we’ll be fairy peasants? We’ll have to look human; just temporarily!” she watches their horrified expressions, rolling her eyes at the behavior. “If we want this to work, we have to put effort into it. If he notices we’re fairies, he might become suspicious. Besides, it’ll only be twenty-one years.”

“Only twenty-one,” she pretends not to hear Tina mutter that.

Not surprisingly, Queenie is the only one who nods her head. “Alright,” she looks at the other two. “Come on, it’s for the prince! He needs our help! And we owe this family for their contribution in the war. They’d do the same for us.”

“Fine,” Tina eventually sighs, though her unease is still evident. “But if this doesn’t work…”

“There’s no guarantee it will work,” she starts pointedly, meeting each of their worried gazes. “But if any of you have a better idea, then please, do share.”

When no one speaks, she lets out a sigh of her own. “That’s what I thought.”

~

“So you want to take our son into the forest, raise him without knowing his real identity, and then bring him back on the eve of his twenty-first birthday,” King Lysander glanced over at his wife and queen briefly before hissing at Seraphina. “Are you four out of your minds?”

Despite the fire going in the large fireplace, the room feels anything but warm. She doesn’t like being referred to as crazy, nor does she appreciate the tone he’s using with her and her kin, but she’s anything if not collected. She looks towards the queen, holding her youngest son protectively in her arms while young Prince Theseus is asleep leaning against her left shoulder. She’s pale, with purple bags under her eyes as a clear indication that she’s not been sleeping. 

“Grindelwald is a seer, your majesty. He knows where Newt is and if the child grows up here, he’ll be under the constant threat of danger,” she notices the queen turn her head sharply in her direction at the word danger. “Yet if we give him a new identity, it will throw his powers off. Grindelwald will be expecting the young prince to grow up in the castle. He won’t be expecting the child to go into hiding completely unaware of his true identity.”

“I cannot allow this!” King Lysander hisses once more, laying a protective hand on his wife’s shoulder. “There’s no guarantee this’ll work; this is the most reckless and ridiculous plan I’ve ever heard come from you, Seraphina!”

From beside her, she can hear Tina mutter. “And throwing spinning wheels into a bonfire wasn’t?”

“What did you just say?”

She steps in between them, the tall king practically towering over Tina’s medium sized frame. Her narrowed gaze meets his own dark hazel one. His mouth is twitching, like he wants to say something, but the words won’t come out. He’s running on pure emotion; anger and fear taking over the rational part of his mind. “What other option do you have?” her voice is level, like cold steel that cuts through him. “This could be a chance to outwit Grindelwald and save your family. Why be a fool and not take it?”

There’s nothing but silence that echoes through the queen’s chambers. Theseus turns in his sleep and the king glances at him momentarily. He clears his throat suddenly, his tired eyes still resting on his oldest son’s sleeping form. “I just want what’s best for my children; for my family. If there’s no absolute proof that this will defeat the dark wizard, then my answer is no.”

“But do you think this could work?”

It’s the first time the whole night that the queen has spoken. Queen Arianwyn, whose voice is usually strong and bright, has been reduced to speaking a in a whisper. Her gaze is fixated on the sleeping infant in her arms; as if to erase the memory of the most evil wizard in the history of their kingdom holding her son. “Do you think this could work?” she asks again with a much stronger tone. Her blue eyes are fierce, fixated on the four of them. “Could this plan save our son?”

“We believe so,” the other three nod their heads and she steps past the king to where the woman is sitting. She bows respectfully eyes resting on the sleeping cursed child. “We will do everything in our power to see that no harm comes to this child.”

The woman’s lips purse tightly together in thought and she sets the baby prince back down in his cradle, hand lingering on his small body for the barest moment. “May we have one more day with him? Then, tomorrow night, you may take him away.”

“What? Ari, you cannot be entertaining this idea!”

“I’m not entertaining it; I’m agreeing to it,” her tone remains strong, but even she can see the unshed tears stirring in her eyes. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Exactly,” her arms wrap around Theseus carefully, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head. A few tears slipping down her cheeks while her voice cracked as she spoke. “It’s risky, yes, but if it works, then we’ll have our youngest back. We’ll have both our children safe and sound with us once more. This...it’s not ideal, but if it keeps our son safe…”

She gently detaches herself from her oldest child, standing at her full height and staring Seraphina directly in the eye. “Seraphina,” her voice is not cracking now, steady and unbelievably calm for one who’s just had her child cursed. “As one mother to another, do you promise to look after our son,” she looks back towards her husband, who refuses to meet her eyes. “And make sure no harm comes to him?”

Still kneeling, she barely even notices the other four kneel down as well. “We will stake our lives on his,” she promises, and she can feel the very power of the oath in her soul. “We will do everything in our power to protect him and make sure he grows safe and away from any harm that will come his way.”

She agrees with the queen. None of this is ideal, but the last thing she ever wants to see again is a family ripped apart by Grindelwald. Tina and Queenie understand this; Credence not so much. Yet she understands all too well a mother’s love for her child. 

It’s a bitter reminder that even her hardened heart can’t ignore.

~

The cottage had once belonged to an old miller and his family. When he died, the home was left abandoned; the man’s children deciding to start a new life in the heart of the kingdom and thus, creating the perfect place to raise their child

Well, the royal family’s child, anyway.

It was surprisingly large for a cottage; with enough room for the five of them. Though it definitely was quite a few steps down from where they’d been living before. Human appliances weren’t unfamiliar to them and it’s a blessing really that Credence knows how to use a majority of it, so they aren’t completely in new territory.

It’s been two hours since they’ve arrived and the young prince has been sleeping peacefully in Tina’s arms. That seems to be his favorite place to sleep at the moment and the dark haired fairy just can’t seem to bring herself to put him in his cradle, looking down at him with a warm smile as she rocks him back and forth. Only yesterday she’d been against the idea, yet it didn’t take long for her to fall completely in love with the child. Almost as if he were her own.

The other two weren’t any better; though Credence is initially wary of the child. Queenie absolutely adores him, going on about the clothes she’ll make for him and how he’ll be the most beautiful baby in the kingdom. She doesn’t have the heart to remind her that no one is ever going to see the clothes she makes for him. 

It’s not, as she’s noted before, an ideal situation. If she’d known Grindelwald would show up at the celebration, she would have done everything she could to keep him away from the baby. If there’s one thing she can’t stand is failure and even more so, her own failures. So she’s determined not to fail this child.

He stirs in his sleep and those impossibly beautiful blue eyes look up at Tina. She knows how babies work; he won’t be able to give them genuine smiles for another few months, but Tina can’t help but smile back. “You want to hold him, Seraphina?” she asks, looking in her direction and extending the baby towards her. “My arms are getting stiff.”

When was the last time she held a baby? Oh wait, she knows and she pushes that thought back immediately. She wants to say no, but when those eyes look at her, she can’t look away. Even if the smile he presents her isn’t his real smile, she can’t tear herself from his hold. He’s placed in her arms before she can even respond and immediately she feels that warm feeling she hasn’t felt in a very long time. 

Not since, well, she held her own baby.

Her hair is not held up in a turban for once and he easily grabs her golden hair in between his two fingers. It doesn’t hurt though she does give him a stern look. All he does is smile at her again. “See, he likes you,” Queenie comments, fiddling with the fire burning in the hearth. “Artemis’ a little angel, don’t you think?”

An angel, yes, she can see that. But entirely innocent? When she looks back down at him, she allows a small smile. They’ll have their work cut out for them, she knows this for sure. 

~

Grindelwald’s a patient man, but he’s not  _ that  _ patient.

“CRUCIO!”

Electric sparks shoot from his wand and the man before him, one his “loyal” followers screams bloodily. He flings him away with his other hand, the man’s body hitting the wall with a sickening crunch. As he slides down, there’s a bloody trail following him. Whether he’s dead or not, he doesn’t know nor does he particularly care. 

He paces back and forth, curling his lips backwards in an ugly sneer. His vision’s been blocked; he cannot locate the youngest member of the royal family and it bothers him. No, it disturbes him. More than he will let his followers see. “Imbecile,” he snarls towards the unconscious, or possibly dead, man. “How do you not know where that cursed family hid their child?”

The man, of course, doesn’t respond.

He kicks the man out of spite before taking a deep breath, removing a bit of the blood splatter from his face. It’s rare for him to break his composure like this, but with all that’s happened, who could blame him for allowing this one small slip up? Just when things are finally going right, the damn child just had to disappear!

It’s bad enough he was forced into hiding for three years (admittedly the worst three years of his life; hiding from King Lysander’s knights), and then when returns,  _ he’s  _ no longer there. Up and vanished without a trace. Almost as if he doesn’t want to be found.

Fine. If he wants to be that way, then who is he to stop him? His other followers, some a bit more intelligent than others, eye him warily. It fills him with a tiny amount of satisfaction knowing how much they fear him. And admire him, of course. With a flick of his wand, the blood from his wall disappears and the man is still lying there on the floor.

“So they think they can hide him from me,” he muses outloud, fully aware they can hear them. They look to him expectantly, awaiting orders to carry out whatever they think he might ask. “A little ambitious of them, but no matter.”

They’re still warily staring at him, not sure of what to do. They know he’s agitated and the smart ones keep quiet unless they have something useful to share. Less they wind up like the man on the floor. A woman, with hair almost as pale as his, steps forward carefully. “My Lord,” she keeps her eyes lowered as a sign of respect, though her voice is confident. “Might it be that they did something to alter your vision?”

He wants to roll his eyes at the obvious. “I wouldn’t have guessed,” he said with the barest hint of condensation. She flinches away but he pays no mind; she’s not really worth effort, none of them are. Though, she is right. He can’t focus on the young prince and the fact that he can’t see him is definitely inconvenient. 

But, no matter, he would still get his way. “I have a job for all of you,” he grins wickedly as they bring themselves to attention. He takes a seat on his black marble throne, watching with amusement as they bring themselves forward. “Go out, look far throughout the kingdom, and search through every cradle for an infant with auburn hair and blue eyes.”

“How will we know if it’s him?”

“Well he’ll probably be heavily guarded by knights. If you find him, report to me and I will handle it myself,” for a moment, all they do is stand there, still unsure of what to do. It’s all that’s needed to infuriate him again. He doesn’t even need to lift his wand to send a few of these “loyal followers” crippling down to their knees. “Idiots! How long are you going to stand there twiddling your thumbs? Go! Now!”

Every member in the room apparates without a second thought and he was suddenly gifted with quiet. He leans back in his throne, a hand rubbing his temple to ease the tension. They probably won’t succeed; he doesn’t expect them to yet he is not a man who appreciates those who are tactless when carrying out his orders. It’s bothersome, inconveniente, but he’s gone through much more trying obstacles. 

He’d find the child. If it took ten years or twenty, it didn’t matter. His fate was sealed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival and "Artemis" grow up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's only been two days, but I've had this chapter written up for a while. I didn't know it was actually going to be a part of this story, but since I got all my school work out of the way, I thought why not give another chapter? So, here you go! I personally love mooncalves and want one for myself. Why can't we have these things? Seriously, I was in love with those little creatures the first time I saw them.
> 
> Also, I watched the 2011 version of Fright Night yesterday. Literally fanning myself for how hot Colin Farrell is. I don't think I can handle it

When he’s barely five years old, Artemis brings home his first creature.

It looks like a deformed calf, at least it would to anyone who didn't know what it was. Seraphina knows it’s a mooncalf and while she briefly ponders how the small boy got it away from its herd, she’s more concerned about _how_ Artemis snuck out without them knowing and _why_ he decided going outside in the middle of the night was a good idea. It’s enough to give Tina a heart attack and the fairy is looking at him with such exasperation, she almost finds it amusing. Almost, anyway.

“What were you thinking?” she’s glaring at the child, who seems to be immune to her glare at this point. He seems to know she’s more upset than angry and he merely gives her a smile that rivals sunshine.

“Credence said he’d take me to see the mooncalves!” to emphasize the point, he hugs the mooncalf lovingly. To their surprise, the mooncalf doesn’t flinch away and instead, nuzzles him like it would a mother. “This one followed us back! I swear, Tina, I didn’t take her unwillingly,” he pauses for a moment before another smile grows. “Can I keep her?”

“Wha- what? No! No, you cannot keep it!”

“But why?”

“Because she belongs with her herd,” Seraphina cuts in; it’s too late to be playing the question game and Merlin knows Tina gets suckered into it more than they do. She kneels down carefully in front of the small child, who’s still petting the mooncalf. “Come on, now, she probably has a mother that’s looking for her.”

It is adorable, she will admit, when Artemis pouts. However, she never surrenders to it and stands her ground while those impossibly blue eyes flecked with green gaze up at her. When he realizes he’s not going to get through her, he sighs and looks at the mooncalf sadly. “Okay, Phina,” she can’t recall him ever using her real name, no matter how many times she insists, it just seems to go in one ear and then out the other. Selective hearing indeed. He pets the mooncalf one last time before heading back in the direction of the forest. “Okay, let’s get you home.”

“Baah!”

He keeps trying to get the creature to follow him, motioning and talking gently to it, but the creature stands its ground. It only stands there, blinking at him and making noises until it’s not the only mooncalf making noise. Hidden in the trees are fifty or so bright turquoise blue eyes that blink into existence.

“Oh dear,” she hears Tina mutter beside her. “Has he done what I think he’s done?”

“Summoned a whole herd? Excellent observation skills, Tina.”

They both look at Credence accusingly and the young fairy only shrugs his shoulders.

The mooncalves swarm the front yard, prancing around and baying at the small boy till he pets them. He’s barely their height and for a moment, she worries they might trample over him and kill him accidentally. Tina’s apparently thinking the same thing for she chews at her bottom lip nervously, body ready to sprint into motion to protect the child.

Yet Artemis is completely at ease among the herd, smiling and laughing innocently. He seems to have a spell cast over them for mooncalves are normally very shy and tend to avoid contact with humans. It’s been only one evening and Artemis has already won them over. Looking at them with absolute adoration and love that only someone with a very pure heart would understand. He hugs another one; its bulbous eyes giving him the same look. The creature barely knows the child but already it's giving him those very same looks: Love. Adoration. Kindness…

But mostly importantly, trust.

Credence has situated himself down in the grass and while most of the mooncalves are hesitant, there are still a few letting him pet them. Why, there’s even one taking a nap in his lap.

She sighs, Tina glancing over at her as she takes a seat down in the grass. “You might as well get comfortable,” she tells the dark haired fairy, still watching the little boy. “We’re going to be out here until the moon goes down.”

By the time Queenie comes out and starts fretting about the mooncalves eating the vegetables she’s planted, Tina just shakes her head. “A little angel, hmm. I think his halo might be a little crooked, no?”

~

Percival can’t recall very many times he’s seen his parents.

They live in their manor outside of the castle and while he writes to them every week, very rarely does he see them. It’s the end of summer, and to say he’s surprised at being summoned home by his father is quite the understatement.

The Graves’ manor is one of the largest estates in the kingdom. It’s home, and yet, it’s not home. He lives in the castle most of the time anyway, alongside Theseus who’s also learning the ways of knighthood. They’re only pages but in three hopefully short years, they’ll be granted the title of squire. He wishes the other boy were here, to poke fun at him so he wouldn’t feel so awkward looking up at the home he was born in. He doesn't even know why he’s here and being left in the dark has started to make him very cross.

One of the house elves lets him in; Layla, if he recalls correctly and once more he’s left standing awkwardly in the foyer. All around him are portraits of the patriarchs of the Graves family, starting from his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, Gondolfus Graves and added recently, he believes, his own father, Lorenzo Graves. Staring down at him sternly, piercing light gray eyes expecting nothing but the best from him. To bring more honor to the family name.

It’s quite a lot to live up to. His father surviving the ten year war is a feat itself, but fighting Grindelwald one on one and surviving is another. It’s a legacy that is both a burden and a challenge to live up to. If there’s anything Percival loves more aside from order and methodical practices, it’s a challenge.

“Percival, you’re here. Good.” his father appears in front of him and he keeps his head bowed in a sign of respect.

“Hello, Father,” he keeps his voice lowered and his eyes downcast. “How have you been?”

When he finally looks up at him, it’s almost like looking up at a stranger. Lorenzo Graves is intimidating in both presence and personality. He imagines, and he’s been told this by his mother, that he’s the spitting image of the man. Aside from his mother’s dark eyes, of course. It seems almost impossible that he’ll be grown up one day. He’s only been eleven for four months and if anything, growing up seems to be a rather dull procedure.

Lorenzo Graves, in a rare gesture he’s only witnessed a few times, smiles at him. He’s almost taken aback by it and when a hand reaches down to ruffle his thick black hair, he can feel his cheeks begin to burn. “I’ve been well, my son,” the man’s deep voice is light, no sign of stress or agitation. “I’ve been well. How have you been? Learn anything new?”

Of course he has, but his father doesn’t sound very interested about that right now, which he finds odd. “Where’s Mother?” he asks instead, looking past his father’s body for any sign of the woman. “Is she here?”

“Let’s go see,” that smile only seems to be getting wider and he wonders if the man is feeling as well as he claims.

He follows his father through the home, past more portraits and furniture. He gives Layla a brief nod as she dusts one of the old knight’s armor that hasn’t been used in over two hundred years. His father pays no mind to the house elf, but he knows she is not being mistreated. She’s rather lucky to be serving this household, unlike some of the others. Like the Lestrange family, for instance.

His father stops at his mother’s chambers, pressing a finger to his lips. It’s odd, but he doesn’t pay much mind to it until he pushes open the doors. His mother is lying in her bed, and he feels a pang of alarm. Has she been sick? Why wasn’t he told? He wants to ask this but when she turns her head to smile at him, he realizes she hasn’t been sick at all. She’s cradling something in her arms and with one arm, gestures him over. “Come here, Perci, love,” he steps towards her carefully, sitting on the edge of the bed with her arm wrapped around him.

She kisses the top of his head, but he’s more focused on the baby cradled in her other arm. Her other arm rubs his soothingly, a gesture he’s only been familiar with a few times. The baby’s not asleep, but it’s staring up at him with dark gray eyes framed by long lashes, like his mother’s. “What do you think?” she asks him quietly. “What do you think of your little sister?”

A sister. He has a younger sister. It’s strange to think of his parents having another child; old as they are. His father’s beginning to gray around the edges and his mother’s dark eyes are beginning to get wrinkles around them. She’s still beautiful, but it’s obvious she’s not as young as she used to be. “What’s her name?” he asks as the little baby girl is placed in his arms. Two little fingers grab his as he traces her face, strong for someone so small.

“Gracia,” she tells him warmly. “After your great-aunt.”

He remembers Great-Aunt Gracia and she was anything but what her name implied. He remembers her as a grouchy, sour looking woman who looked like she’d been sucking on too many lemons. He knows his mother would disapprove, but he wasn’t sorry at all to see her go. Not that he was ever going to tell her that; he wasn’t _that_ ready to get a lecture or his ear pulled.

His father joins them on the bed, still looking completely at ease and relaxed. He wants to know if his father reacted like this when he was born, but thinks twice before asking. It’s a rare family moment for them, one that remains in his heart for a very long time. They’re not “touchy-feely” people most of the time, but this...this is nice.

When his mother takes Gracia out of his arms, he feels his father pull him closer for a hug. His face immediately turns pink at the gesture. The words his father issues next make his face grow even warmer and his heart clench tight.

“I love you.”

He can’t even recall his father ever telling him that.

~

Artemis really does have a lovely singing voice.

Credence notices this as they’re walking through the forest, picking berries as Queenie’s request. The boy is ahead of him, basket swinging while he walks down the path towards their usual berry spot. He’s eight years old and for Credence, it’s a bit hard to believe that eight years have gone by. In thirteen years, they’d have to bring the boy back to the castle. Gone would be the days where they’d play with the boy in the forest or in the home. Where it would be the five of them looking after each other while the four seasons pass. It bothers him; he knows it bothers Tina and Queenie too. It bothers him more than he ever thought it would.

For a moment, a brief wave of panic crashes over him. A long time ago, his magic would have lashed out but he has better control of it now. He feels Artemis pull his hand, tugging on it gently. “Credence,” those blue eyes look up at him, clearly worried. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“Oh, uh, no,” he shakes his head, instantly turning a shade of pink. “I’m fine, please, don’t worry.”

Artemis narrows his eyes suspiciously, but he doesn’t ask any more questions. His hand is still holding his, leading him towards the berry bushes. “Hey Credence?” he asks suddenly.

“Y...yeah?”

“I think you should smile more. You have a really, really nice smile.”

If anything, his cheeks only turn redder and Artemis continues to walk with him, well, drag him at this point to the bushes. When he suddenly stops, he’s broken out of his stupor. “What is it?” he asks the child, tilting his head curiously.

Artemis does the same thing, only it’s as if he’s listening for something. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Help!”

The boy’s eyes light up. “Something’s hurt!” he tries pulling on Credence’s hand, but the fairy remains stiff as a board. “Let’s go! It needs our help!”

He momentarily let’s go of the child’s hand, looking in the direction to where the cottage is. “The cottage is in that direction; let’s go that way. We can get the others to come investigate.”

“Okay, let’s go this way!”

“What? That’s not what I- Artemis!”

The boy runs off in the direction where he heard the cry. For someone so small, he certainly runs fast and by the time he reaches the boy, he’s standing right in front of a Wampus Cat. If he was truly human, he’d be having a heart attack right now. Right behind the giant cat, there’s a stout man with an injured leg looking at the young boy in horror.

Yet Artemis is completely at ease facing the creature. The cat snarls at him, but the boy only looks it in the eye. He tries not to notice how much the gaze mimics Seraphina’s. “Bad kitty,” Artemis shakes his head at the creature, wagging a finger in front of it. Credence steps forward, magic gathering in his hand; ready to blast the creature away, unbeknownst to Artemis, of course. Yet to his surprise, the cat only whimpers. Artemis just shakes his head. “You can’t eat that man, kitty. That’s bad. You have plenty of other things to eat in this forest, but this man is not one of them. And you injured him, so that’s also very, very, bad.”

In any other circumstance, watching a cat get lectured by a by much smaller than itself, would be amusing. It’s head nudges Artemis’ hand and the boy can’t help but pet it, taming the creature with only a few words and gestures. “It’s okay,” the boy murmured, nuzzling his cheek into the cat’s face. “You were just confused. Just don’t hurt that man, okay? There, there, good kitty…”

While the boy is still petting the large cat, he hurries over to where the man is, assessing his injuries. It’s a nasty cut, one that needs cleaned right away, but the man just looks at the boy. “Aren’t you going to help him?” he sputters, clearly concerned for the young child. “That...whatever that is, could eat him!”

“I highly doubt it will,” he glances at the cat briefly. “Can you get up?”

“Forget about me; get that thing away from that kid!”

And that is how Jacob Kowalski unwittingly (and a bit unwillingly), entered their lives.

~

“You fight like a girl!”

“That’s funny; you kind of look like one.”

A long time ago (eight years ago, in all actuality), they fought with wooden swords small and light enough to fit in their hands. Now, they hold swords that if sharpened, could kill a man. These blades a dulled, often used for practicing, but they don’t mind. Any chance to practice and hone their skills is not something taken for granted. They may be only fourteen, but to everyone else, they look frightening enough to kill a man.

Not that they would without reason; code of honor prevented that, but they knew how to. Perhaps that was the most frightening thing. Their hands, worn from wielding a sword, were still clean but only time would tell how long it would stay that way. Times had changed from those blissful three years of fragile peace. Now that Grindelwald was back, everyone was on edge; just waiting for the bleached pineapple to strike.

For a year after his return, he’d dreamt of the intimidating man. No, the Dark Wizard. From the first time in his life, Percival remembered being afraid. This kind of fear he’d never felt anything like and to this day, any thought of Grindelwald made his blood boil.

The way he threw his father and mother into the wall, keeping them pinned up there while they struggled. When he’d threatened Theseus and picked up the young baby prince from his cradle. He wanted to run the man through with a sword but he knew that as a young child, he was no match for him. Even in his current state, he was no match for him.

Though, it was different now. Older, a bit wiser, and he definitely had something worth fighting for. Theseus too.

They call a truce, setting the blades down and wiping the sweat off their brows. Theseus’ auburn curls are clinging to his face, plastered with sweat and grime from a hard day’s training. He may be the heir to the throne, but he works harder than anyone else. Well, except from him and he hands a satchel of water over to him.

“Thanks,” Theseus’ tawny colored eyes light up with gratitude, taking a long swig of water. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Gotta say, you’re a lot better with your defense.”

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself”

The Crown Prince snorts. “Please, I could take you apart with one blow,” when Percival raises his eyebrows at that, the redhead grins. “Seriously, I could.”

“I doubt that,” he rolls his eyes at the obvious challenge. “I could take you apart with less.”

“Oh, so you are challenging me then?”

They’re best friends; have been since they were kids, but he swears Theseus is more thirsty for violence than he is. Not that that’s particularly a bad thing…

Theseus puts the water down, picking his own sword back up and tossing the other to Percival, who easily catches it. “How would you fare against Grindelwald?” the oldest prince asks suddenly and for a moment, he’s off guard by the question. “How would you protect my brother, _your fiance_ , from that monstrosity?”

He knows Theseus isn’t joking when he asks this. He understands this older sibling protectiveness far better than a few of the other squires, who are either younger siblings or have none at all. He ignores the fiance bit; he’s not quite ready to start thinking of an eight year old boy as his future bride, so he thinks of his sister instead. She’s barely three years old with pretty long black hair and dark eyes. The thought of Grindelwald being anywhere near her is enough to make those protective brother instincts kick in.

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

And then he strikes.

~

“Are you and Jacob going to get married?”

“What? Artemis, honey, that kind of question-”

“I know,” he smiles at her anyway and Queenie can’t help but feel warmed by it. “But it’s kind of, well, obvious you like him.”

She knows the others find it a bit unnerving how observant this boy is (though his obliviousness sometimes confounds her as well), but she feels a sort of kindred spirit towards him in that regard. Though his method of perception is a bit different from her own and she knows he’s not doing it to make her uncomfortable. He may be almost thirteen but he’s a nice boy; with good sense and manners that both Seraphina and Tina grounded into him. A bit shy around people, but when he’s near his creatures it’s like seeing a completely different person come to life.

She understands why he’s so shy. He’s rarely ever been around other people; he’s only been in the nearest village a few times and even then, he’s not supposed to talk to anyone aside from Jacob and herself. Others might find him a bit odd but she just knows if they spoke with him even once, they’d love him just as much as she, Jacob, and the others do.

He’s been granted permission today to go into the village by Seraphina; a rare treat that he doesn’t get too often. The last time he visited was eight months ago; practically a year. Jacob, despite Seraphina’s distrust, visits as often as he can. He works as a stonemason, though he’s made it perfectly obvious that he hates working there. He claims it's hard on his back; that it’s a job that will literally kill him one day. His dream is to open a bakery in the heart of the kingdom, where Artemis’ real family is. Not that Jacob knows that, of course. He just thinks that she and the others are peasants raising a small child.

She wants to tell him the truth; Merlin knows she wants to but it’s too risky. She highly doubts he’s a Grindelwald fanatic though one look in his mind would tell a different story. He’s honest; an open book that she finds fascinating. Most people she’s come across are guarded but not him. He’s not afraid to voice his feelings and desires and for that, it’s why she’s in love with him.

“So why don’t you get married?” Artemis asks again, with a little tilt of his head that makes him look quite adorable. “Does Phina not like him?”

The fact he gets away with calling Seraphina “Phina”, is impressive enough on its own. She gives a little sigh, shifting the basket of goods into his arms. “It’s not that, dearie,” she can’t explain to him why they can’t be together right now. She wants to and all this secrecy pains her, but she knows now is not the time to explain things. “It’s just, we’re busy, he and I. Maybe one day, hm?”

He doesn’t believe her, it’s evident on his face, but he doesn’t say anything. She lets out a soft sigh, thinking of a million different things at once. Fairies are complicated; there’s no way she can fully explain it all to the child. To take Jacob on as a lover; as a mate is a serious thing. Fairies only ever take a mate once. If the mate dies, they never take one again. She doesn’t know why that is, exactly, but it’s a reason their numbers have gone down drastically.

When Grindelwald attacked all those years ago, many couples had died and even more lost their partners. She and Tina lost both their parents when the evil wizard unleashed a dragon onto their home. Seraphina, recently appointed their new queen, lost both her husband and her young daughter. Human life spans are short and though she knows Seraphina holds no animosity towards the aspiring baker, she understands her queen’s air of caution when speaking to her about him.

“Oh no.”

She almost crashes into the boy, who’s staring at something quite intently. She follows his gaze, where a peddler selling jewelry has set up shop. She narrows her eyes, trying to see what he’s looking at before he darts away from her.

“Artemis!” she calls to him, running after the boy as quickly as her legs could go. He’s holding something in his hands, holding it up to her while the peddler is glaring at him and storming over.

“Look,” he holds the creature up, while it’s currently possessing a piece of jewelry tightly. “A niffler. Please Queenie, can we take him away from here? They’ll kill him!”

He speaks gently to the creature, who’s still guarding the jewelry quite possessively and giving Artemis a suspicious look. In the end, right as the peddler comes over, the creature hands over the necklace to Artemis, who promptly gives it to the man.  

“I’m sorry,” he smiles brightly to the angry looking man. “I’ll get this creature away from your shop. Please sir, he can’t help it; he’s just a little misunderstood-”

Not to her surprise, the man only shakes his head like he’s in some sort of daze. “It’s no problem young man. You just keep an eye on him, alright?”

“Yes sir!”

As they walk away, with Artemis now holding the niffler carefully in his arms while the basket is hooked in the crook of his elbow, she acknowledges him. “Dearie, how’d you know it was a niffler?” she remembers these creatures being a pain; stealing treasure and hoarding it for themselves. Almost as bad as dragons, really.

“It said so in one of my books that Jacob brought for me,” he hums and strokes the creature’s head. “I got it for my birthday last year, don’t you recall?”

She doesn’t, but she pays no mind to that. The very mention of the man once more just makes her heart flutter. If the boy notices, he doesn’t say anything and they continue on with their errands.

~

By the time he’s twenty, he’s made his first kill.

His knight and a group of others were simply scouting the perimeter when they were captured by Grindelwald supporters. He’d stormed the tower, single handedly taking out the men and few women that held his people hostage.

To anyone else, it might seem like an impossible task. But he’s Percival Graves, eldest son of Lorenzo and Tomasia Graves. He has a reason to fight; a reason to survive. There are people in his life he cares about more than anything; the ones he’d rather die than see get in harm’s way.

It’s not to say it wasn’t difficult; it was, in fact, extremely difficult. These fanatics seemed to have known he was coming, but all he could think about at the moment was rescuing his fellow squires and knights. In the end, almost all of the fanatics were either dead or had fled. None of his people had died or suffered any life threatening injuries and he was promptly dubbed a hero; worthy of being dubbed a year ahead of schedule.

So here he is, twenty years old, and kneeling in front of King Lysander. The man’s aged quite considerably over the years. His honey brown hair now mixed with gray; his beard sharing the same fate. The wrinkles on his face seem to grow everyday and his eyes, the same color as Theseus’, are full of sadness. An ache he can’t possibly begin to comprehend.

The king holds the sword in his right hand, placing it on his right shoulder as he begins to speak. He notices his parents looking on with pride and the excitement in his little sister’s eyes.

“Do you, Percival Gandolphus Alexander Graves, son of Lord Lorenzo and Lady Tomasia Graves, solemnly swear that you will uphold the Knight's code of honor?”

“I do, your majesty.”

“And do you vow to uphold the law, to punish the unjust and live by the Code of Chivalry?”

“I do.”

“Then henceforth, you are no longer Squire Percival Graves, but Knight Percival, of the Graves family.”

The sword moves from his right to left shoulder and he can’t help but feel an exciting sense of accomplishment. He glanced over to Theseus, who’d recently been appointed as a knight only two months prior, and gave a small nod.

The redhead returns the nod, pulling out his own sword with the rest of the knights. “Long live the king! Long live the king!”

He tried not to feel anxious when the king patted his shoulder, whispering the words “My future son-in-law.”

~

It’s strange, Tina thinks as she washes dishes one afternoon, how much Artemis is growing.

Just the other day, it seems that he was three years old; the two of them in meadow while enjoying the sunshine and the child suddenly tossing a bunch of flowers on her. Now, he’s a few days after his twentieth birthday and taming some of the most wildest of creatures known to their kind; some of which she didn’t even think were possible.

Only last year he discovered a nundu in a trap and promptly released it before the hunters came back. She’d been upset with him, though not for releasing the poor creature, but rather for endangering his life like that. Now he’s sitting in their front yard, petting the bronze-gold head of a thunderbird.

She smiles faintly at the memory. He was just sixteen when he encountered the creature, immediately falling in love with it and naming it “Frank”. It had scared her the day he brought it home, riding on its back as though he were some beast tamer. She had partially been afraid it would bite her but when the boy hopped off, it preened for him and allowed him to give a pat on its massive head. It truly had been a glorious sight, one that still stayed with her even now as she saw him.

“He really is something, isn’t he?”

Queenie’s voice popped up behind her, taking up another rag to dry the dishes. She acknowledged the blonde female but continued to watch the child, no, the young man outside. “He’s going to leave us,” when Queenie stills in her movements, she looks to her worryingly. “Any day now he’ll hop on the back of that creature and take off. Won’t even give us a goodbye and somehow, Grindelwald will find him and the curse will come true and we’ll have failed.”

Queenie just sighs and places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You can’t keep worrying, Teen,” she’s trying to sound light hearted, but even she can hear the catch in her sister’s throat. “He would never do that to us; he loves us as much as we love him.”

“But he’s restless, can’t you see?” she says sharply, clutching the dishrag even tighter. “He wants to travel; to see the world outside the forest. I know he’s said something to me about writing a book about magical creatures. He’s not even twenty yet and already, he wants to leave.”

“He will, eventually,” Queenie’s voice is sad, and her dark blue eyes are full of unshed tears. “By next year, he won’t be our Artemis anymore. He’ll be with his real family; he’ll be a Prince married to his husband.”

“We’ll still have to take care of Grindelwald,” Tina presses her lips together firmly, only smiling when Artemis catches her staring at him. “I-we-can’t let that monster get him. I can’t lose my family again…”

She doesn’t even protest when Queenie gives her a hug. “You haven’t lost all of us yet; I’m still here. Seraphina and Credence are here; Artemis too. We may not always live here but we’ll have our memories. Artemis won’t forget us; you know deep down that he won’t.”

She knows her sister is right. Artemis isn’t a shallow person; he would never ever forget them or all the things they did for him.

It just doesn’t calm the ache in her soul that one day, very soon, the life they’ve built for him here is all going to disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, tell me what you think! If you'd like to be a bit more descriptive in the comments, that's also very appreciated ;)
> 
> Also Graves' sister's name is a name. There was a little girl I used to know at my dance studio who had that name and I think it's lovely. It's pronounced Gray-SHAH. It's a variant form of Grace (don't think it's used very often), but I just really liked it, so here you go.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment you've all been waiting for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments guys! This week's been so busy that I'm glad I was able to write this chapter in my down time. I tried really hard to make this chapter long enough so I hope you enjoy it.

It’s a wonder, really, how _incompetent_ his followers are.

One task. One simple task. That’s all Grindelwald’s asked them to do and they screwed it up. Returning to the fortress with empty hands and stupid looks on their faces. He breathes heavily, panting deeply while a hand pushes back a few wayward strands of white-blonde hair. His wand is still sizzling with magic, electricity cracking out over the tip. All around him are at least ten of his followers, dead or in the process of withering away. The air smells of death, a few crows now appearing in the windows at the prospect of corpses to feed on.

He adjusts the collar of his black shirt to adjust himself; he is after all a professional. The idiots lying deceased around him had the nerve to come up to him, implying that this curse, this child, was an obsession. He had promptly killed the man immediately, asking if anyone else felt the same way. Apparently the man wasn’t the only one; considering the nine other bodies on the floor. He snorts at the word “obsession”. What would those fools know? They knew nothing of having to hide for _years,_ to suffer that first humiliating defeat at the hands of some pathetic mortal king. To have someone close to them, someone he trusted at one point, _betray him_. So was he bitter? Yes and he could admit that without any blow to his pride. Did  that stop him from wanting revenge? No, it did not.

He apparates out of his fortress, staring into the mist that surrounded the massive stone work. It’s been twenty years and while he feels a sort of giddiness at the reminder that the curse would activate in one year, he still had to find the child. No, he wouldn’t be a child anymore. He’d be a young man at this point and a cruel smile twists his lips.

One of his followers was still dimwitted enough to believe the young prince would still be a child. His blood still stains the wall of his courtroom.

He’s heard from another follower, one of the Lestrange’s he believes, that King Lysander has stepped down from the throne. The crown now being passed down to his eldest son, Theseus. The young man so far has proven to be a nasty thorn in his side; much more vicious in his pursuit than his father. The young king will stop at nothing till he’s out of the kingdom or dead. The thought of it makes his smile grow wider. He always did love a challenge and King Theseus was proving to be one. Especially with the help of that troublesome knight, Percival Graves.

His forces have been met with quite a bit of opposition from the King and he has to admit, he’s a little impressed with how resistant they are to him. He’s a bit irritated as well, but at this point, there are other things on his mind.

The most pressing matter is to find the youngest member of the Scamander family. Newton was his name, yes? He almost grinned at the thought of almost forgetting the boy. He would know the child when he saw him (magic leaves an imprint, after all) and no matter how much they tried to keep him away, his foolish parents had to know he would find him at one point. It’s troubling he couldn’t track the child with his magic; whoever had hidden him had done a good job. Commendable of them really.

He heads into the forest, seeing as none of his “loyal” followers had bothered to check there. He made a mental note to himself to find better followers, but even he himself doubts the young prince would be in a dark place such as this. Light does not easily exist in the dark.

The forest is full of magical creatures, ranging from harmless bowtruckles to ferocious nundus as well as non magical creatures. Most humans never venture into the forest out of fear that one of the creatures will devour them. Nonsense, of course, but he finds it amusing nonetheless. Very few creatures would make themselves known to humans; their numbers dwindling due to the advancement in human warfare. Some of the weapons now were actually strong enough to take down some of the magical beasts, making it easier for poachers to acquire said creatures.

Of course, that had been a long time ago. Aside from looking for the cursed prince, he was in the forest for another reason .

Rumors, albeit incredibly small rumors, were beginning to spread in the lower villages near his fortress of a beast tamer. Of someone in the forest capable of taming some of the most vicious and feared creatures. Someone powerful; formidable. He didn’t think much of it at first (after all, they’re just rumors), but they keep becoming more frequent. Even his followers are speaking of this so called “beast tamer” and quite frankly, he’s becoming more intrigued.

The forest is large; not quite as large as the Forbidden forest and not nearly as dangerous, but it is still quite vast. It’s only early afternoon, so there’s still a lot of light pressing down from the sky. If he were a sentimental man he would think it to be beautiful, but there’s only one thing on his mind right now. There’s no time to be dilly dallying while there is a potential threat, or better yet, an ally. He can’t think of anything better than adding a new addition to his growing army.

Until, he sees the young man.

He’s been apparating to different parts of the forest at this point and he stumbles across the young man purely by accident. No, he doesn’t like the word _accident._ Chance, is a better word, he muses.

It’s like he’s stumbled across one of those forest nymphs he’s seen in older paintings; this young man is breathtakingly beautiful. Despite his simple attire of brown pants and a mended white shirt, it does little to undermine how ethereal his presence is. His hair is a light shade of auburn, curled gently and a bit messily across the right side of his face. His pale creamy skin is dusted pink from being in the sunlight, a gentle upturn of his lips as he gazes down at the creature, a bowtruckle of all things, perched on the top of his hand.

The bowtruckle sees him first and hastily makes its way to the nearest tree. In that moment, his own pale gaze is met with blue. A lovely shade of gentle blue. Even though he’s still a bit far from the young man, he thinks they’re flecked with green. He hasn’t seen another pair of beautiful blue eyes since, well, _him._

The young man immediately stands up, taking several steps away from him shyly. It wasn’t his intention to be seen, at first, but it’s too late now and he isn’t one built for regret. “Hello there,” he greets the shy looking man, slowly stepping forward and notes with cruel glee that the young man is making an extreme effort not to make eye contact. “And who might you be?”

The young man only clears his throat slightly, still avoiding his piercing gaze. “I’m,” Merlin help him, his voice is soft and clear; like a breeze in the summer. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers; I should really be heading home now.”

It finally hits him.

He can feel his magic react to the young man, sizzling and buzzing just underneath his skin. The young man is staring curiously at him now, probably wondering why such a predatory smile is growing on his pale face. Oh, if only the young _prince_ knew. If only he knew who he was; that would send him running deeper into the forest.

“Of course,” he speaks, catching the young man off guard. He seizes the young man’s hand, bringing it to his lips in a formal way of greeting. He almost sneers at the rose colored flush spreading across his cheeks. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Gel. It’s only common courtesy you give your name in return.”

Slowly, the young man withdraws his hand away, looking at it as though he’s been shocked. “I’m...Artemis,” he responds hesitantly, but gives a polite smile anyway. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Oh, it’s very nice indeed. Though, not for the same reasons.

He hasn’t felt this triumphant in a long time and when he looks at the young man again, he feels a surge of violent possessiveness. Artemis doesn’t seem to be aware of this; he just looks rather uncomfortable as they just stand there looking at each other. It’s laughable how much this young man doesn’t know. That he is the reason that he’s living in the forest, completely unaware of his true identity. In fact, he’s rather glad pathetic little Credence reversed the outcome of his spell. It truly would be a waste if this young prince died.

He wants him for himself; he’s deserved a pet after all the grievances he’s put up with these past twenty years. And a companion would make things more bearable. He can’t count how many times he thinks of his past lover; thinking he’s still here and then realizing bitterly that he’s not. A new pet would not be a bad idea at all.

He spots a nundu and a wampus cat eyeing him warily and another rush of excitement runs through him. Not just a pretty face, eh? So the young prince is the one who’s been taming the creatures from the forest; the one who can tame even the most strong willed of beasts. What an asset! A true asset to his cause!

He wants the prince even more.

“You truly are a lovely creature,” he flatters the prince, sounding as nice as possible without sounding well, as the kids put it these days, creepy. “And I’m assuming all these creatures here are your pets?”

“Pets?” the prince frowns at him, sounding absolutely bewildered. “Pets? Sir, you’re completely wrong, these creatures are my friends. I could never keep them as pets, that would against-”

“Ah, I understand,” he’s not in the mood to be lectured; much less by someone much, much younger than himself. “You have truly remarkable friends, no?”

“I suppose so,” Artemis smiles more politely than friendly. He glances behind him, as if there’s someone waiting for him. “I should really go home; my guardians will be worried.”

Guardians, he smiles to himself. He knows exactly who they are; he doesn’t even need to see them. That blasted Queen of the fairies. He will give her credit for keeping the prince away from him for this long, but even she should have known that no one outsmarted Grindelwald. He’s been compared to a spider before, with an intricate and vast web. Always knowing which string to pull; at just the right time. He wouldn’t go after the prince at this moment; no, he’d wait. He’s been patient all these years, he can stand to a little more.

He conjures up a rose as white as his hair, handing it to the startled young prince. “For your trouble,” the young man gives a soft, genuine smile of gratitude as he holds the flower delicately in his hands. He casts the auburn haired man a charming smile, which makes him blush harder, and backs away. “I hope to see you again sometime, Artemis.”

Then he disappears, leaving the young prince holding the flower in confusion. He grinned like a wolf at the prince’s naivety. Very soon, he promises himself as he vanishes from the forest. His curse will be complete. Love is a foolish notion; he doubts anyone will wake him up. Even if the prince never wakes, he’ll still own him in every sense of the word.

~

It strange, Artemis thinks.

He’s rarely met anyone who ventures into the forest; most of the time it’s by complete accident they end up in the beautiful place. Most people who find their way through run away as soon as they can; even if he tries to help them. But not the pale man with oddly shaped hair. He seemed perfectly at ease, completely sure of himself. When he spoke, it’s almost as if the man...knew him somehow. Which is ridiculous of course; he’s never seen him before in his life.

Still, it doesn’t shake the unnatural feeling. He’s normally open to everyone and everything he meets but that man left an odd sensation in him. A feeling that warned him of danger and self-preservation. Even his creatures were wary of him, baring their teeth or hiding. If they didn’t trust him, neither did he.

He looks down at Missy, his niffler, asleep in his lap clutching a golden earring. He frowns at the troublemaker, reaching down carefully to detach the small fingers from around the piece of jewelry. Seraphina will not be pleased.

He stands up from his spot at the windowsill, earring in one hand and creature in the other and he makes his way downstairs. His four guardians all in the downstairs area doing different things to keep themselves busy. Tina and Queenie doing dishes while Credence swept dirt and dust from the floor; Seraphina eyeing them with a quiet sense of leadership that he’s never quite understood. When someone has a question and they need answers, they always go to tall elegant woman.

When she notices him heading towards her, she raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “What is it, Artemis?” she asks calmly, but he can see a small glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Let me guess, you found my earring?”

He blushes and nods sheepishly, extending the golden hoop towards her. Missy awakes suddenly and reaches for it, but Seraphina is quicker. She even gives the tiny creature a smirk. “I don’t think you’ll ever get her to stop stealing,” she nods and still gives the creature a small pat on its head. “Are you still going to try?”

“I’m not sure, to be perfectly honest,” he shrugs, a hand reaching up to push his auburn colored bangs back. “Stealing’s wrong, but it’s her nature. She can’t help it; no matter how many times I tell her.”

“Well, you have all day to try,” she promptly places a wicker basket in his other arm, looking pointedly towards the door. “Now go, I need you to collect some blueberries.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What do you need blueberries for? You never cook.”

“No, but I do,” Queenie looks over from drying the dishes, smiling brightly at him. “I’m making a pie tonight so we can have it for tomorrow and I need blueberries. I know how much you love them, sweetie.”

He does like blueberries, but not as much as someone else he knows. He knows Jacob is coming over for tea tomorrow and whenever he comes over, the whole cottage smells of baked goods. Not that he’s complaining, of course. “Alright,” he smiles back at her, settling Missy in his basket. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I think we know that’s not entirely true,” Tina’s speaking now, with a small smirk and a slight twinkle in her dark eyes. “You’ll find one of your creatures, or a new one, and be gone for hours on end.”

“What? I-”

“It’s true,” Credence nods his head. “You could be gone for several days and never even notice.”

He blushes profusely at their teasing though he knows they mean no harm. “Enough,” Seraphina commands and the three of them resume their tasks, snickering a little. The older woman pushes him gently towards the door. “You best get a move on; those berries aren’t going to pick themselves.”

“Be safe!” Queenie waves to him once he’s out the door from the open window. “And be sure to pick lots of them!”

“And don’t talk to strangers!” Tina echoes, hands holding one of the china plates. “Use Frank if you need to get away from one!”

He casts her a look from over his shoulder, shaking his head at her air of caution. He understood a little as to why she was so worried, but at this point in his life, she shouldn’t be. He’s safe in these woods; his friends would never allow something to harm him. He would never harm any living creature or allow anyone who ventured into the forest to hurt them in return. They’re his family, and he’d never allow harm to come to his family.

With a bounce in his step, he continued to cheerfully wander through the forest, aware of the creatures that poked their heads out to look at him. He smiled, the smile growing even wider with a wampus cat with her cubs stepped out. He immediately dropped down, allowing the cubs to run around him and nudge against his hand. He picks one up, cradling it against his chest while it purred happily.

In his mind, he had the perfect life. Despite the occurrence of the strange pale man from yesterday, he was completely happy. Nothing could ruin his life; no amount of change could upset his stability at this point.

Until he came across a man in white and black clothes.

~

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“I’m not sure.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What does it look like I’m going to do?”

“Will you bring-”

“Gracia.”

Percival Graves, knight of Griffindale and future head of the Graves family, cast his sister a thinly veiled look of irritation. She doesn’t even bat an eye, identical orbs staring directly into his own. She’s leaning against a table, dark hair falling over her shoulder as she smiles. “It’s just a question,” she states innocently. “As your sister, I believe I have the right to know these things.”

He rolls his eyes at her bossiness, wondering for a moment how on earth he got such a demanding younger sister. Weren’t they supposed to be sweet and well mannered? He snorted at that notion, looking back to the fifteen year old. He wanted to smack whoever came up with that idea. “I’ll come back soon; I told our king that I was going on a little excursion to the forest. There’s no need to worry your head off, Gracia.”

“I’m not worried,” she glared, looking somewhat miffed. “It’s Mother who’s worried. She thinks you’ll be eaten by a thunderbird! Or a worse, a wampus cat! Or A nundu!”

“You and Mother have very active imaginations. You should get them checked out,” she scowled and he couldn’t help but give a small smile. He finished putting his last knife in his knapsack, sheathing the sword that hooked onto his belt. “Now, I want you to be good and stay out of trouble. Stay away from all those young men in the castle.”

She has the nerve to feign innocence. “Why brother, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You claim you don’t, but I know you better than that,” he leans over to ruffle her hair, earning a squawk of protest from her. “You’re too young to be looking for a suitor.”

“I am not! You’re not Father, Percival!”

“No, but I am your older brother. They have to pass my approval before they can even begin to write you a ballad,” she glares at him but it only bounces off. He’s eleven years older than her; an adult who’s capable of looking after himself. She’s only had some sword practice and is so small compared to him. He wants to keep her safe, as any protective older brother should. “You’re too good for the men here.”

“Even our King Theseus?”

“Especially Theseus,” he rolls his eyes at the last time he left his sister and best friend in the room alone together. Theseus is good looking, very handsome with an appeal that draws many ladies to him. Even some men, so flirting has come very natural to him. Last time he saw them together, his best friend had the nerve to take her hand into his and speak very sweetly to her.

Gracia’s a smart girl, he’ll give her credit for that and Theseus knows better than to lead people on, but he doesn’t want his beloved sister to get her hopes up.

She sighs dramatically, and reaches over, adjusting the collar on his shirt that must have become wrinkled a while ago. “You’re hopeless,” she says half-heartedly, shaking her head. “Hopefully Prince Newton will be able to look after you. Heaven knows you forget to.”

By the way he clenches his jaw, she realizes the error and steps back, eyes cast downwards. “Sorry,” she mutters, still looking down at the floor. “Just...forget what I said.”

Except he can’t; he’s never able to forget things. Every time someone mentions the young prince’s name, he can’t help but feel...apprehensive. It’s not that he doesn’t think he’ll like the young man, but he is aware of his own faults. He’s a strict man, with a love for order and discipline. It’s why the squires and pages are afraid of him. Or at least, why they’re so eager to please. He demands excellence and tolerates nothing else except for hard work and effort. If Prince Newton can’t accept or be able to stand it, well, they’re marriage will be interesting. Or a complete disaster.

He doesn’t even know what he’ll look like. Not that looks mean a whole lot to him; he’s sure he’s a lovely young man. The only memory he has of the young prince is that of a small baby, barely a month old, with wispy auburn hair and typical baby blue eyes. He doesn’t even know where the prince is; no one but the former king and queen do. He’s asked before but they gave him no answer, only saying that he’ll return on the eve of his twenty-first birthday.

Which was only a year away.

He’s knows the day is coming fast and while a year may seem like a miniscule amount of time, he knows better than to think that. He’s known for twenty years that once the prince returns, they’ll be married and he’ll have a husband to provide for and take care of. No more quests, (unless Theseus needs him to go on one), no more adventures by himself, and he certainly can’t go off fighting in new territories without his husband-to-be knowing. He’ll be married and that in itself comes with expectations. He can handle expectations, but he’s never been good in the feelings department. He wouldn’t even blame the young prince if he didn’t like him.

“Percival?”

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by his sister’s voice. She’s gazing up at his tall stature worriedly, chewing on her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to make you nervous, please don’t be too cross with me.”

“I’m not,” he assured her, taking her by both her shoulders. “Believe me, I’m not worried at all.”

She doesn’t believe him, but she nods and draws him in for a hug. He’s never been touchy-feely; he can’t even stand it really when the other knights give him hugs after a quest, but he allows his sister to. “Be safe,” she legs go of him, patting his arm. “And do be careful. Theseus will never let me hear the end of it if you somehow get in trouble.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” he rolls his eyes once more, but a smirk grows on his lips. “I’ll be back in a week or two. Think you can take care of things?”

She nods, grinning widely. “Mother and Father are at our summer home; I’ll be fine here.”

He doesn’t like the thought of leaving her alone, but she’s capable of looking after herself. Her father is Lorenzo Graves after all and he knows with absolute certainty that their father did not raise her to be helpless. He’s seen her throw men much bigger than herself onto the floor for even looking at her the wrong way.

She walks with him out to the courtyard, waving as he mounts his horse and takes off towards the gates of their home. He waves back at her, leading the horse towards the direction of town and then further out of their kingdom’s territory.

The forest isn’t so far; a good thirty minute ride yet he can’t recall going in it very many times. The trees are tall, seeming to go on forever towards the sky and he can’t see past the first several trees. It’s dark, warning anyone who enters of the creatures and beasts that dwell inside. He’s heard rumors of people going in and never coming out, but he doesn’t believe them. Nor does he entirely believe the rumors of a person capable of taming the most wildest of beasts.

His horse, Phillip, doesn’t seem to want to go in yet he coaxes him forward, giving his shoulder a gentle pat. It’s still dark when they enter, even after a mile into it. He knows parts of the forest are lighter than others, with trees more spread apart and he knows there are people who live inside. People who practice magic, he assumes, this would be the perfect place for them to live. He has no powers but he can feel a heavy presence.

When they reach a stream after another twenty minutes, he allows Phillip to take a break. It’s a bit lighter now, with non magical animals roaming around. He spots a doe with her two fawns, munching on grass with the mother looking up every few seconds for danger. A few squirrels are up in the trees, plotting his demise, he muses as they chatter at him before scurrying off up farther into the tall trees.

He leans against one of the trees, opening up his satchel to bring out a ripe green apple. He takes a cutting knife, peeling away the green skin with Philip looking up now and then with interest. He smiles at the horse’s lack of subtlety and heads towards him, the apple out towards the white coated creature.

“There you go,” he murmurs, the horse greedily taking the apple from his hand. “I kind of wanted it for my lunch, but here you are, eating it.”

Philip just winnies in reply before nudging his hand. “I don’t have any more,” he holds his hand up in innocence. “You ate my lunch. I hope you feel sorry.”

Philip, if at all possible, just casts him a dirty look and returns to drinking water from the stream. He snorts and rolls his eyes. Out of all the horses, he had to pick the one with an attitude problem. He’s been riding with Philip for five years and the horse still thinks he’s in charge and not the other way around. If he didn’t like him so much he would have replaced him a long time ago.

_“Are you going to Scarborough Fair?”_

He pauses for a moment as he’s putting the knife back in his satchel. He knows he isn’t hearing things; he just heard someone’s voice. But he pauses once more, ear cocked towards his right.

_“Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,”_

_“Remember me to one who lives there,”_

_“He once was a true love of mine..”_

Someone’s singing and by Merlin and Morgana he’s never heard a voice more beautiful. He’s heard professional and ametuer singers both but he’s never heard a voice this clear; this...wonderful. The voice grows fainter for a moment and he wonders if they’ve moved along, but then he hears it again. He takes Philip by the reins, the horse not entirely thrilled to be moving through the forest again, but he has to find the owner of this beautiful voice.

He’s completely taken aback by what he finds.

A young man, perhaps an inch shorter than himself, is surrounded by a bunch of baby wampus cats. He’s holding one in his arms, rocking it as though it were a baby and smiles pleasantly down at the creature. The other five cubs are pawing at his legs, butting their heads against his kneecaps in a show of affection. He smiles down at them, kneeling slightly to pet their heads.

_“Tell him to find me an acre of land,”_

_“Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,”_

_“Between the salt water and the sea strand,”_

_“Then he’ll be a true love of mine…”_

He doesn’t know why he’s so entranced; he doesn’t even know the young man’s name, but he can’t help the loud sound of his heartbeat roaring in his ears. The cub in his arms raises a paw upwards and he feels his hand grab the hilt of his sword, ready to get the man away from the tiny beast, but the paw just threads its tiny claws through beautiful auburn curls. The young man isn’t even hurt; he just laughs and rubs the cub’s belly affectionately.

There’s a sudden roar and his gaze is immediately drawn away from the redhead. He looks up just in time to see a massive beast; a thunderbird if he recalls correctly, barring its large talons towards him in a killing strike. Philip is smart; he runs away with a frightened noise that attracts everyone around. He draws his sword, barely managing to jump out of the beast’s way before the talons cut him.

Those talons are sharp enough to kill, he notices the way they punctured the rock he’d been standing on, leaving deep gouges that had it been him, he would be dead or severely wounded. He ducks behind a tree, the bird creature swarming over head, gazing down to find him. He knows it won’t take long; those eyes can see far better than his can and with dangerous accuracy. He can’t hide forever.

So he jumps out from the tree, sword raised in a striking position as the creature circles around in the sky once before making a dive towards him.

“FRANK! NO! STOP!”

He didn’t even see the auburn haired man move until he’s standing right in front of him, arms spread wide to shield him from the beast’s gaze. The creature immediately stops its descent, hard as it is and manages to land rather loudly right in front of the man. It makes a piercing noise, looking over the ginger’s shoulder to glare at him. He promptly returns the favor, trying to look as menacing as it did.

“No, Frank,” the man shakes his head and he’s quite surprised the thunderbird (Frank, was it?) hasn’t ripped his head off. “He hasn’t harmed anyone; he hasn’t harmed me, it’s okay. Everything is okay.”

The man is speaking calmly, in a soothing manner that seems to be working on the large bird. He reaches forward, petting the creature’s beak in a relaxing way. “I understand, you were just doing what you thought you had to. You were just trying to protect us from someone you deemed a threat. But we’re fine, see?”

Just by the way he’s speaking, he almost wants the man to speak to him in the same way. Almost.

A few moments go by with the young man calming the beast down, the other creatures gathering around to see what’s going on. It’s extremely uncomfortable; the way all the creatures are looking at him. He sees the mother wampus cat, her cubs hiding behind her legs as she snarls threateningly at him. The others, some he can’t even name, are either scared or looking like they want to eat him. He prefers the first bunch rather than the latter.

The man suddenly turns around and it’s as though he’s been struck across the face. Incredibly wide and round; an impossible shade of blue flecked with green meets his own dark brown gaze. They glare at him with mild annoyance, as though _he’s_ the one who’s done something wrong. “What were you thinking?” the young man scolds him, placing hands on his slim hips. “Have you been spying on me? I find that incredibly rude, you know. You’ve scared my friends here and I do not appreciate that.”

He finds it hard to comprehend that he’s the one who’s scared the creatures. A vast majority of them look like they want to rip him in half. Still…

“I am...sorry,” he tries, stepping forward. He rethinks that move with every creature tenses and he realizes he still has his sword drawn. He immediately sheaths it to show he means them no harm. “I apologize, I had no intention of startling your...friends. I’ve just been exploring and happened to hear your voice while allowing Philip to rest.”

The man blinks. “Philip?”

“My horse,” he gestures to where the horse is now munching happily away on some berries. Some horse he has and he scowls towards the creature. “We’re spending a little time here away from the castle.”

“The castle,” the man’s eyes, if at all possible, grow even wider. “You’re from the castle?”

“You’ve never been there?” he asks carefully, and he doesn’t even need an answer. From the way the young man is looking at him with absolute fascination, he can tell he’s probably never left the forest. “Where exactly do you live then?”

The young man is immediately broken out of his wonder, stepping away from him quite quickly. The creatures all scurry, some lingering back to bare their teeth threateningly. He catches him by the wrist, careful not to be too forceful. “Wait, don’t go,” he asked, his voice clear and hopefully void of any sort of threat. “I didn’t meant to cause you any sort of distress, please, forget I asked.”

The young man pulls his hand away easily, but at the same time, he doesn’t try to run further into the forest. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” it almost sounds conversational but he can sense the underlying warning. This man is not helpless; he knows how to defend himself. He looks him directly in the eye and for a moment, he’s almost unnerved. “What’s your name?”

“Percival,” he responds, extending his hand out. “Percival Graves, knight of Griffindale.”

The man hesitates for a moment, but when he places his hand in Percival’s, a light blush crosses his cheeks. The hand is firm, years of taking care of these creatures making them look delicate and artful. “Artemis,” he responds softly. “My caretakers call me Artemis.”

“Artemis,” he repeats, the name rolling off his tongue easily. He brings it up and kisses the back of his hand, tempted to laugh when the man’s face goes even redder. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He lets the hand go and Artemis doesn’t attempt to run away. He observes his for a moment, head tilting to the left as he studies him. “What’s the castle like?” he asks suddenly, the caution slowly drifting away. “Are the people nice there? I heard from a friend that the queen breeds hippogriffs and I would very much like to meet her one day. What kind of creatures are there?”

He blinked at all the questions and Artemis flushed deeper. “Sorry; I don’t meet a lot of people,” he rubs the back of his neck and his smile. Merlin help him, he’s never seen a more beautiful smile. It lights up his eyes, making the bright sapphire colored orbs more open. “You don’t have to answer, if you don't want to.”

“She has lots of hippogryphs,” he blurts out before he can even stop himself, a soft smile forming as the young man grins excitedly. “I haven’t seen them in a while, but she takes great pride in them. I take it you’ve never seen one.”

“Never,” Artemis shakes his head. He takes him by the hand to a fallen long and for once, Percival lets him. They sit down, with the young man facing him instantly and expectantly. “Tell me about the kingdom.”

He doesn’t know what to say at first or where to begin for that matter. So he starts with the first person he can think of. “Our king, Theseus, is very brave. Very honorable and protective of his people. The former king and queen are very proud of him. He’s adored by many and I would imagine that that bastard Grindelwald is afraid of him.”

Artemis blinks in confusion. “Grindelwald?”

“You’ve never heard of him?”

He shakes his head, auburn curls moving gently with the warm summer breeze that passes through. “I’m afraid not; I’ve rarely ever left these woods. I assume this Grindelwald isn’t a very nice person.”

He snorts, earning a tiny grin from Artemis. “That’s one way of putting. No, he’s a horrible monster that takes pleasure it causing devastation to others. He’s terrorized the kingdom for years. Many have suffered from his magic.”

Artemis frowns. “Well I hope I never come across him; I can’t stand those who have no respect for others. Especially in regard to my friends,” he gestures to the creatures eyeing the two of them carefully and then calls out. “Come on everyone, no need to be shy. Mummy won’t let anything happen to you.”

He raises his eyes. “Mummy?”

“Yes, you heard correctly.”

“You call yourself Mummy to these creatures.”

“I said what I said,” Artemis huffs, but there’s no irritation. He can see the way he’s looking at him in amusement and shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve cared for some of these creatures since they were young. This Wampus cat just had cubs a month ago; do you want to hold one?”

“I don’t believe that is such a good idea,” he comments but Artemis is already getting up, picking up the baby wampus cat and offers it gently to him. He eyes the mother, who is looking at him, expecting him to do something. He looks back to those beautiful eyes. “It may not be a good idea.”

“I won’t force you if you’re not comfortable,” Artemis sits back down, the cub immediately adjusting itself to be more comfortable in his lap, eyeing him like it’s going to pounce suddenly. “They’re quite remarkable really. Aurora here is an excellent mother.”

He’s not even remotely surprised that the young man has named them and at the mention of her name, Aurora moves forward. She nuzzles her face against Artemis’ cheek, purring quite loudly for a ferocious cat capable of tearing one’s face off. Artemis rubs her head lovingly. “I caught her once trying to kill a man. In her defense, she was only trying to keep him away from her nest and the man didn’t know. He still won’t go near her.”

“I don’t blame him.”

The cub suddenly moves, situating itself in his lap. He stiffens, not entirely sure what to do, but he hesitantly places a hand on its body. Running his hand through its fur the same way he’s seen Artemis do it and to his surprise, the cub purrs quite loudly. Artemis beams. “See? He likes you!”

“I suppose,” he’s not entirely convinced, but his face is still intact so it’s not terribly awful. “Does this one have a name as well?”

He smirks when the auburn haired man blushes. “I named him Perseus,” he meets his dark gaze and his head tilts. “And then I meet you, Mr. Graves. What a strange coincidence.”

“Please, call me Percival.”

Artemis nods. “Alright then, Percival,” he watches as something crawls out behind his ear, sticking out quite dramatically against his light curls. Artemis notices his gaze and reaches up, allowing the green creature to hop onto the back of his hand. He holds it up for him to see, smiling fondly down at the green creature that reminds him of a celery stick. “This is Pickett. He’s a bowtruckle.”

He’s never heard of a bowtruckle, but he observes it anyway. “What does it do?” he asks and he’s genuinely curious. “Some might mistake it for a bug or piece of food.”

He didn’t think the bowtruckle could understand him for it glares, stomping a little foot and turning his back towards him. Artemis hides a laugh behind his other hand, allowing the creature to run up his arm and behind his head to hide in his hair. “Sorry,” he removes his hand. “He’s easily offended.”

“Clearly.”

Artemis sighs, looking back down at the cub. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep, his hand autonomously running through his fur. The young man leans forward a little, curiosity evident on his face. “Tell me more about the kingdom. If you don’t mind, that is.”

He does, and he loses track of how much time he spends talking to this young man. All the while lost in his innocent and admiring eyes.

~

“Where have you been? It’s already dark!”

Artemis bows his head sheepishly underneath Tina’s irritated gaze, her tone anything but pleased. She’s standing right in front of him, arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping impatiently. “Do you realize how late it is? You’ve never stayed out this long!”

“I’m sorry,” he means it; he hates when Tina’s upset, especially when it’s with him. “I did not mean to stay out so late,” he holds up the basket and blushes even harder when he realizes it’s empty. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow, dark eyes narrowing. He holds the basket a bit tighter. “I can go out again and pick some?”

“No,” she sighs and shakes her head. She’s beyond irritated now and he knows better than to cross her. She looks at him with exasperation. “Just go to your room; I’ll go out and get them.”

“It’s no trouble; really I can-”

She holds her hand up, immediately stopping him. “It’s too dark now and I don’t like the thought of you going outside this late at night. I’ll go and you get ready for bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, she takes the basket from his hand and marches out the door, closing it quietly behind her. He’ll have to make it up to her, Queenie too and as he makes his way up the small stairs to his room, he feels the guilt.

He undresses and switches into his nighttime wear, crawling under the covers. The thought of Percival crosses his mind and he flushes despite himself. Something in his stomach flutters, a sick feeling rising in his throat that isn’t entirely unpleasant. He thinks they’re called butterflies, or so he’s heard Queenie call them. The very thought of that handsome face looking at his is enough to make his own heat up.

Who is Percival Graves? He burrows himself further into his bed, heart beating quickly at the very sound of the name.

He doesn’t understand this feeling; he’s never felt anything like it before but there’s one thing he’s very set on now. He wants to know who Percival Graves is.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face and a giddy feeling in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well leave a comment and kudo if youa haven't! That is, if you want to. Bookmarks are acceptable too!


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival and "Artemis" find unicorns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating this sooner! I promise I haven't forgotten about it! I just didn't feel very much inspired to work on it and when I did want to work on it, I was too busy with school or my job to do anything with it. I hope you all understand, and I hope to get another chapter out before too long. There's so many things I want to do with this story; so many ideas that I have. Of course they need to be worked out first, but please know that if I ever stop working on this, I'll let people know.

When he awoke the next morning, he feels a rush of childish excitement.

The sun is creeping through his bedroom window, warming his face as he stretches his arms above his head and lets out a yawn. Running a hand through his messy curls, he willed himself out of bed  and strode sleepily over to his dresser to pull out some clothes. They weren’t of fancy and expensive material, like Percival’s, but they were comfortable. Practical for his life here in the woods.

Not that he fully intended to live in the forest forever. No, there was a world out there. A world full of creatures waiting to be discovered; to be written about for his book. He glanced over at his desk as he wrapped his worn belt around his trousers, where paper lay strewn about and the quill sitting next to the ink bottle. Various images and notes scribbled about, some of them barely legible. It’s only the rough draft, noting every single magical creature he’s come across. There’s probably fifty or so he could write about but it’s not enough. He wants to write about more; to  _ see more  _ creatures than he ever thought possible. He’s always dreamed about riding on the back of a dragon or coming across Thestral; the possibilities are endless!

Yet, there’s always a reason to stay. Seraphina, Tina, Queenie and Credence; the very people he owes his life to. He’s heard the story numerous of times; how his mother was unable to take care of him so they offered to raise him for her. “She loved you very much, never doubt that,” Queenie told him when he was a small child, when he had asked her why he doesn't have a mother. “And we love you to, so don’t doubt us either.”

He doesn’t doubt it; he loves the four of them just as much as he loves his creatures. Yet, there is something off about them. A distance he can’t quite describe that sets them apart from him. Like they have something heavy weighing across their minds; a thick cloud of caution always hovering over their heads. Every time he wants to bring up the topic of him leaving, it’s never addressed. He forgets it the minute he has their attention. He can’t leave them; not now. Not when they’ve done so much for him that he’ll never be able to repay.

He makes his way downstairs; a little surprised to find the kitchen area completely deserted. Queenie must still be asleep, along with everyone else for the cottage is very quiet. He quickly grabs the basket, which is sitting next to a bowl full of blueberries and scours the kitchen for anything he can find. He grabs some rye bread that appears to be fresh (Queenie must be around somewhere), adding sausage, apples, some eggs that are on a plate that have been boiled recently and some fresh cheese. He has the feeling this food is to be meant for all five of them so he makes sure to leave plenty behind for his caretakers. 

There’s a shortcake cooling near the windowsill and he doesn’t even need to think twice against touching it. Jacob is coming over for tea today and he would never intentionally make Queenie upset with him by ruining her hard work. Especially when it’s for the man she’s had her eye on him for years.

He covers the basket with a small cloth and heads out into the early summer morning. He senses Pickett moving out of his hair and onto his shoulder, blinking up at him sleepily, no doubt questioning him as to why they were up so early. The dew from the leaves and grass haven’t even completely dried yet. He lets the small creature crawl into the basket, eyeing the goodies inside. “Don’t eat them all,” he chides gently, looking down at him as he looks at an apple. “They’re for Percival.”

Pickett says something that he assumes is not very polite and dives back under the cloth.

He sighs but doesn’t let the creature ruin his optimism. He walks with a bounce in his step, enjoying the cool morning and the way the sunlight warms his hair. He can’t help the small flutter of his heart when he thinks of Percival nor can he help the warmth that floods his cheeks. He’s never met a knight before or anyone from the kingdom itself. He deems it as merely curiosity but it’s not just that. He wants to get to know this man; wants to learn more about what’s hiding behind those dark eyes and calm collected demeanor. 

He’s living not too far from the cottage but it’s still a pretty decent walk. Twenty to thirty minutes but he doesn’t mind. He loves being outside, surrounded by nature and all her beauty. Only a few of his friends are out; some of them won’t appear till later in the day but he bids them good morning and tells them what he’s up to. They give mixed responses; some matching his cheerfulness while others agree with Pickett’s attitude. A few even have the audacity to growl. He doesn’t blame them; he’s rescued many from poachers. It’s hard to trust some people; he knows that very well.

He finds the camp where Percival has set up quite easily. There’s a makeshift bed made of blankets and a pillow not too far from a small fire pit. Between two firm tree branches, there’s a rope set up, with material hanging down. He immediately recognizes them as clothes, more specifically,  _ Percival’s clothes _ . They’re not wet, meaning he hasn’t washed them so that means...oh goodness, his cheeks heat up instantly. If Percival’s around here and naked, that would be most embarrassing. 

“Oh, you’re here. I wasn’t expecting you to arrive so soon.”

He turns at the sound of Percival’s voice, eyes lighting up at the sight of him. The knight runs his hands through his dark locks, still a bit damp as he makes his way over to where he’s standing with the basket under his arm. He smiles towards Percival, extending his arm out. “I thought you might be hungry, so I brought breakfast for us. Is that alright?”

“How thoughtful,” Percival smiles politely. “You shouldn’t have, really.”

“It’s no problem,” he sets the basket down, sinking steadily to the forest floor to set a small blanket down. “We don’t get visitors all too often; most people are afraid of this place.”

“I can see why,” Percival responds as he settles himself down, watching him as he unpacks the food from the basket and sets it down on the blanket. His strong hands are placed in his lap and he wrings them together, as though he’s nervous or thinking hard about something. “With all these creatures in here, I would imagine it scares quite a lot of people.”

He frowns a little at that. “These creatures aren’t dangerous.”

“I’m pretty sure that Wampus cat wanted to eat me.”

Alright, so maybe a few of the creatures could be considered a little dangerous, but he refuses to fully accept that. Aurora, Frank, and a few others are intimidating but he knows them all so very well to know it’s all a defense mechanism. They don’t actively seek out humans to destroy; it’s actually the other way around.

“She wouldn't have eaten you,” he sighs, taking a piece of rye bread and placing some cheese on it. “Humans aren’t part of the wampus cat diet; they’re only really aggressive and prone to attack when they’re in heat or they feel threatened. Or if they feel you’re threatening their cubs.”

“And your Thunderbird?”

“He saw you watching me and deemed you as a threat,” he smiles sheepishly at the slightly disgruntled look on the knight's face. “He’s the only Thunderbird I’ve ever met; I overheard from his poachers they come from a faraway land where’s there’s nothing but vast plains and deserts.”

Percival raises an eyebrow. “Poachers?”

He’d almost forgotten about mentioning that part. “I rescued Frank from a group of poachers who were smuggling him in through the forest. He probably would have never made it to their destination; poor thing was so malnourished and injured. I got him away from them and he’s stayed near me ever since. My caretakers weren’t exactly happy about it; I was sixteen after all.”

He flushes brightly at the incredulous stare Percival is giving him. “You were sixteen and you managed to get a giant bird away from a group of poachers. Just like that. And you didn’t get hurt?” he looks impressed, if not a little concerned at the same time. “That’s very...reckless. I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

He could have sworn he saw the tips of the knight’s ears turn a delicate shade of pink but he shook that thought away. “I’d do anything for my creatures,” he says truthfully, finishing the rest of his bread and reaching for a boiled egg. “I’m actually writing a book about them.”

“Really?”

He’s never had anyone this interested in his book before. Of course his caretakers are curious, but they’ve never been truly invested in learning about them as much as he has. They help him take care of them sometimes but he thinks they do it mostly to make him happy. They know of his book; he’s even had Seraphina go over them for grammatical errors and such, but he hasn’t told them he wants to discover more creatures. More than what this forest, his home, has to offer.

“It’s going to be an educational book,” he starts up, and he finds it rather easy to talk about it to someone he doesn’t know all too well. “It’ll be on how to interact with them in a safe manner that could potentially cause less injuries and fatalities for these creatures.”

Percival pauses momentarily and he can’t tell what the man’s thinking. “For the creatures?”

“And people too,” not all people are bad, he knows this. He remembers when he first met Jacob; how terrified the man had been. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know about Wampus Cat behavior. The book, however, could change that. “Even though people can be quite dangerous. Vicious and needlessly cruel.”

He doesn’t like saying that about people but it is true. He’s seen too many poachers for him to change his mind about that. He’s seen what they do; how they treat innocent creatures for their own gain. There have been times where it’s been too late. He finally gets past the poachers and the creature is already dead. Curled up in a small attempt at protection as it passed away. “There was a unicorn,” he catches Percival’s attention once more, retelling the somber story that had happened when he was barely eleven. “A mother unicorn and her foal. They...they chopped her horn off and shaved her of her beautiful mane. She managed to keep her foal alive but when I got to her, she already died.”

There’s a pregnant pause that’s so quiet, he can hear the birds chirping as they begin their daily routine. He’s tempted to facepalm for telling him that story; really, who wants their breakfast ruined with stories of poachers and dead unicorns? Percival’s quiet, eating his breakfast with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. He chews solemnly, trying not to flush when those eyes briefly flicker over to his face. The knight probably thinks he’s odd; he wouldn’t be the first person to think that. The few times he’s gone into the village, he’s heard the whispers. “Beautifully odd boy”, “Beast Tamer”, “Strange one,” are only a few of the nice names people have given him. The poachers have given him ones that he can’t even think of ever saying out loud. 

“My mentor and a group of other knights were patrolling their perimeter when they were ambushed and kidnapped by a bunch of Grindelwald’s fanatics,” Percival breaks the silence, his voice low and ominous with the barest hint of disdain. “They were locked up for days without food or water; tortured so badly a few of them begged for me to kill them. I managed to save them all but, I agree, humans are some of the most vicious creatures.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting the knight to say that and for a moment, there’s a brief flicker of anger in his eyes before it’s gone and the man sighs. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t know a lot about the conflict going on.”

“No, please, don’t apologize,” he’s not hungry anymore. If anything, he’s more curious now. “You rescued them all by yourself? That must have been really hard.”

“Believe me, it was,” Percival nods in agreement, leaning back on his arms to take in the morning sunlight that crept down from the tall trees. “Changes you in ways you can’t even imagine. Once you have your first witness of death, you don’t forget it,” he looks at him and shakes his head with a small smile. “Sorry, I’m being rather glum, aren’t I?”

“No, I’m afraid I started it first. I should be the one apologizing,” he smiles and sets the now empty blanket back into the basket. “Not a very cheerful subject, I’ll agree with you there.”

There’s another long stretch of silence, albeit more comfortable this time. He places his hands carefully in his lap, looking over at the slightly older man every few seconds. He stands up, stretching his arms over his head before looking at the knight once more. “You want to see something?” he asks, barely able to conceal the smile on his face. 

Percival just raises his eyebrow. Again. “What?”

“Have you ever seen a unicorn before?”

By Percival’s lack of response, he takes that as a no and offers his hand down. “I can show you; I promise she won’t do anything to you,” he’s successful this time in managing to hide the blush on his face when Percival’s firm, calloused hand takes his own. “She’s still pretty young, but her horn’s fully grown in. I just have to warn you not to touch it and we should be good to go.”

Even when Percival’s standing, their hands are still pressed together. He doesn’t even think to let go and he won’t say it outloud, but a part of him doesn’t want to let go either. It’s a nice feeling, one he’s never really experienced. He’s held his guardians’ hands when he was younger, but he’s never felt this fluttery feeling in his chest. 

He wonders if Percival feels it too…

“I thought unicorns were only attracted to virgins?”

Well, that was one way of putting it, he supposes. “No,” he shakes his head. He’s heard this rumor before but after the studying he’s done, he doesn’t find that to be true at all. “They’re attracted to those who are pure of heart. Those who have no intention to harm them or anyone else for that matter. It’s a defense mechanism that’s allowed them to survive, though sadly their numbers are dwindling.”

He thinks Percival must have seen the disheartened look on his face, for the hand squeezes his carefully. “That’s not good,” the knight says gently, and if he’s not mistaken, a bit earnestly as well. “Maybe your book will change that.”

They end up taking Percival’s horse, Philip, if he recalls correctly. He has his arms wrapped around Percival’s midsection and they’re so close, he can feel the warmth radiating from the man. He didn’t even realize Picket had made his way back into his hair until he hears the familiar sound of the creature speaking in his ear. The small creature doesn’t sound very excited and he quickly hides the smile of amusement as Picket glares at the back of Percival’s head.

~

It’s only his second day in the forest and he never once thought he would see a unicorn.

Honestly, he never truly quite believed they existed up until now. Artemis is speaking softly, pointing out directions as he maneuvers Philip through the woods. He has no idea where they are, only that this part of the forest seems a lot lighter; more open. The trees are less close together, allowing more rays of sunlight to enter through. There’s an aura of peace that resonates throughout the entire area, as if nothing bad could ever happen here. 

“Unicorns are becoming increasingly rarer,” he hears Artemis softly speak in his ear, warm breath tickling the outer shell. “Poachers tend to take their horns and tail hairs to trade off. They look for foals as well since they’re gold in color for two years.”

He nods absently, having read that before in one of the library’s books. Back in the days when he was young, on those rainy days where he and Theseus would spend hours looking through old books. Images full of places he’d never seen before; mountains that held fire, an ocean full of ice and exotic creatures. So far away from the small little fortress of books they had built at the time; far from their world of training and honor.

“They do at times prefer a woman’s touch, but the younger ones are a bit more trusting,” he can still hear Newt speaking, in a relaxing manner that fits the atmosphere outside. Calm like the gentle spring breeze blowing through and warm like the sun gently cascading over his face. He could sit and listen to the young man speak all day and he wouldn’t mind.

Of course, they probably wouldn’t find any unicorns by doing that and Gracia would be furious if she found out that he had the chance to see a unicorn and blew it by getting distracted by a beautiful forest nymph.

His cheeks immediately redden at the thought and immediately, he pushes the thoughts out of his mind. He’s engaged to the prince, even though he doesn’t even know him or even where he is at this point in time. He doesn’t know what he likes, what he dislikes, his thoughts and opinions, or even what he looks like now that he’s all grown up. He imagines, and he tries to not dwell on it too much, that the prince looks like his older brother. Same golden auburn curls and charming smile, except he thinks that Prince Newton has blue eyes.

He thinks, but he doesn’t actually remember. It’s been twenty years, after all. 

“Here we are!”

If he were not a knight and his senses not heightened to his surroundings, he might have jerked away in surprise from Artemis’ sudden voice. He brings Phillip to a halt, the horse shaking his mane slightly in anticipation at the sight before them, making quiet noises of eagerness.

He’s completely astounded, eyes widening ever so slightly as he gently slides off his horse. He only tears his eyes away briefly to help Artemis down, hands clenched carefully on his small, supple waist. The young man smiles appreciatively at him before he takes his hand, leading him towards the small glade with open patches of golden sunlight. 

He can faintly hear the sound of a brook babbling in the distance, drowned out by the whinny of the majestic beast in front of him. There’s at least fourteen unicorns, grazing the emerald green grass or staring ahead at something he could not see. At the sight of Artemis, three foals whinny in enthusiasm and prance over, their golden fur reflecting brightly in the light. Artemis grins, releasing his hand to pet the foals that are running circles around his body excitedly. 

“Percival,” Artemis’ blue eyes meet his again, the same amount of excitement and eagerness in those orbs. One hand resting on one foal’s head while the other on another one’s neck, where the mane was beginning to grow. “I’d like you to meet  Galadriel, Luthien, and Lorien.”

“You named them?”

“Oh, no,” Artemis flushes, quickly shaking his head. “Unicorns are given names at birth. Only a select few are able to hear their language.”

He raises an eyebrow, quickly looking down towards the foals eyeing him curiously. He wonders briefly if they’ll let him touch them; to show that he’s no threat towards them. His hand twitches slightly but he reels himself in. These hands have killed; have been covered in blood. These unicorns don’t deserve to be touched by something so tainted. So, unclean.

“Percival?”

He’s brusquely pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a voice. More specifically, Newt’s voice. He’s staring at him curiously, albeit worriedly. “Percival,” he asks again, taking a step forward. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” it’s not a lie; not entirely, anyway. He smiles tightly, not wanting to ruin this moment for Artemis. “Truly, I’m fine.”

Artemis doesn’t look convinced, but he lets the subject drop and pats one of the unicorns. “Where’s Lorelai?” he asks before quickly looking back to him and adding, “Lorelai is Lorien’s mother. I’ve known her for, well, a long time so she should be around here somewhere...oh! There you are!”

Standing underneath a willow tree is the most beautiful of all the unicorns in the glade. They’re all beautiful, but there’s something about this particular creature that stands out above the rest. Her fur, like the rest of the herd, are the purest shade of silvery white that puts the color of snow to shame. Her horn, from what he can see, is the longest and shining brilliant with power. So bright that he almost has to look away due to its shine. 

She walks gracefully towards them, her foal running towards her and circling around her playfully. Her dark eyes serenely meet Artemis’ and though his surprise is gradually decreasing, he’s still in awe about how she lets the young man run his hands through her long silver mane. “Lorelai,” Artemis presses his forehead to hers, mindful of her horn. “It’s good to see you again.”

It feels as though he’s invading on a personal moment and he can sense a bond of comradery between these two. A history he does not have the privilege to know about just yet. He’s only watching these two but he just knows deep down that they have a strong friendship. Just like his and Theseus’. 

“Lorelai says you can pet her son,” Artemis turns back to him, tone encouraging and warm. “She has given you permission.”

He frowns slightly. “She doesn’t even know me, but she has already given me permission to go near her foal?”

“Unicorns can see deep into the hearts of humans,” Artemis explains patiently, had reaching up to stroke Lorelai’s forehead, avoiding touching the horn. “If she didn’t think you were pure of heart, or had bad intentions, she would have alerted the others and they would have left a long time ago. Nothing can outrun a unicorn, you see.”

Well, he didn’t know that, but since these creatures are magical, he can’t say he’s entirely surprised. “Alright,” he clears his throat, tearing his gaze away from those beautiful blue eyes to the foal standing before him expectantly. Lorien, he believes his name is, nuzzles his hand as he reaches forward slowly. His golden pelt is soft, like his sister’s goose feather pillow. She had once smacked him in the face with it so hard that the feathers had flown out. As he held those downy feathers in the palm of his hand, he thought he would never feel anything else so far. However, this young unicorn is quickly replacing any thought of a pillow owned by a young girl. “He’s soft,” he remarks and he’s suddenly feeling an unusual sense of self consciousness. What a stupid thing to say, he inwardly scoffs and is tempted to pinch his brow. 

Yet, Artemis just gives him that small shy smile. “They all are,” he agrees, and gives the golden baby a gentle pat. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything softer.”

With that, he dashes off further into the glade with the three young unicorns. As he does, he swears he can see the little green stick on the young man’s shoulder stick its small tongue out at him. He can only stand there, staring at the creature in disbelief as it blows a raspberry at him and instead of stooping to its level, he merely sighs and shakes his head. 

It’s calming, he admits silently, to simply watch Artemis. Like yesterday, when he found the young man, he’s completely at ease. There’s no sense of trepidation that something could go wrong, like a creature getting spooked or angered and then lashing out at him. No, and as strange as it sounds, he’s beginning to think that Artemis prefers the company of magical beasts than to actual humans.

He can understand it, in a way. Sometimes being around the others is too much. The nobles in court are nothing but politicians; more focused on getting what they want and their own needs at the expense of the people. He wasn’t going to group Theseus in the ranks of these nobles; everyone knew the young king cared more about his kingdom than his own needs. 

The knights, both the young and the inexperienced, don’t know what it’s like in the real world. He looks at the pages and squires everyday, at their hopefulness and innocence. The light that shines in their eyes is so bright it could light up any darkened sky. He sees it in his sister’s eyes everyday. 

Yet, he thinks he’s always known. He doesn’t know if this sense of realism was drilled into him by his parents, or he was just born with it, but it’s always been there. Through all the training and dangerous missions, his instincts and knowledge have kept him alive. It’s made others idolize and perhaps, fear him a little too. 

It gets lonely, though. He’s seen so much of humanity’s ugliness that he can’t even remember a time in his life where he didn’t see it. When Newt shared that story with him, the one with the unicorns, he thinks that he may have found someone who understands. 

He doesn’t even jump when he feels warm breath hit his ear and something nudge his shoulder. Lorelai nudges his shoulder again and he smiles softly, reaching up to pet her forehead just as he saw Artemis do. “Hey,” he says in a quiet manner, rough hands stroking her soft pelt. “Never thought I’d see something like you.

_ “You have seen much in this life, yet you have a kind heart. There are not many human men like you.” _

A few minutes ago, he might have been surprised to hear a voice in his head. It’s not Artemis’; it’s too feminine so he knows it probably is the unicorn. He looks into Lorelai’s dark eyes, the sound of her calming, yet regal voice echoing in the caverns of his head. “There’s plenty like me,” he answers honestly; he’s not the only knight in the world after all.

_ “Artemis is a kind soul, yet a bit too kind. Do not take it for granted,”  _ he can hear a threat behind her warning and suddenly, he’s aware of the wave of foreboding crashing around him.  _ “That is the only warning I will give to you, Percival Graves.” _

While he wants to know how on earth the unicorn knows his name, he opts to not ask the question. He doesn’t really want to know anyway, and warnings aside, Lorelai stays near him the rest of the time they spend visiting the unicorns.

It’s nice, and as he sits on the ground watching Artemis get chased by the foals, he can’t help but let out a laugh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people wanted to know if Artemis had ever summoned unicorns, well, he has. There's definitely more on this too, so expect to get to see a bit more to his childhood. The names are from Lord of the rings, if you didn't know ;) and I love Tolkien's works too
> 
> I also have another Gramander story in mind. It would be a slow burn fic with lots of angst (the stuff readers love), and all that. If anyone wants more details, just ask! 
> 
> Well, leave a comment! I would love to hear what you have to say!

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah! I liked having Theseus and Percival as kids first. I actually kind of enjoyed writing from Theseus' point of view cause in my opinion, it gave us a bit of an outside look at things. They don't remember a whole lot and I think it adds a bit of intrigue. I would like to think so, anyway. But I tell you, when Grindelwald held Newt, I wanted to throw a toaster at him. Nothing that evil should hold something so pure! No!
> 
> So, again, comment if you would like to and let me know if you want to see more! First chapters are hard to write, but I've been working a while on this now!


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